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gi^-JZAKK ^»^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER 



Izaak Walton hallows any page in which his reverend 
name appears. — Charles Lamb. 



THE 



COMPLETE ANGLER 

OR THE 

CONTEMPLATIVE MAN'S RECREATION 

OF / 

IZAAK ^WALTON 



'■ 7 



lEtntett, foitij an Etttro&uctton 
By EDWARD GILPIN JOHNSON 



T 




CHICAGO n 

A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY 
1893 



V 






Sv\v 



Copyright 
By A. C. McClurg and Co. 

A.D. 1892 



PREFACE. 



CHARLES LAMB, in commending to Cole- 
ridge "The Complete Angler," added, 
" All the scientific part you may omit in read- 
ing; " and it is chiefly for those who, like Lamb, 
value Walton for his literary quality rather than 
his piscatorial lore, that this edition of his master- 
piece is intended. Walton's text is given intact ; 
but the voluminous technical notes with which 
modern editors have expanded and qualified his 
precepts have been generally omitted. For like 
reasons, we have ventured (with some compunc- 
tion) to divorce for the nonce " hearty, cheerful 
Mr. Cotton" from his life-long companion. Cot- 
ton's supplement (appended to "The Angler" as 
Part II. since the fifth edition) is a brief treatise 
on fly-fishing, designed to supply the deficiencies 
in this branch of Part I. Cotton wrote his essay 
hurriedly in ten days ; and though still of some 



vi PREFACE. 

technical interest, it falls far short of its pro- 
totype in literary worth. Briefly, we offer in 
the present edition the kernel of the larger 
ones, — not, of course, with a notion of sup- 
planting the latter, but with the hope of meeting 
contingencies where a small and portable volume 
is desirable. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

Preface v 

Introduction xi 

Author's Dedication to John Offley, Esq. . xxix 

Author's Address to his Readers .... xxxi 



(ZT&e first £)ap. 

CHAPTER I. 

A Conference betwixt an Angler, a Hunter, 
and a Falconer, each commending his Rec- 
reation 35 



QLl&t H>eccmtr 3Dap. 



CHAPTER II. 
Observations of the Otter and Chub ... 80 



C&e GT&utt £)ap. 



CHAPTER III. 



How to Fish for, and to Dress, the Cha ven- 
der, or Chue 91 



VI u CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Page 

Observations of the Nature and Breeding of 
the Trout, and how to Fish for him. And 
the Milkmaid's Song 99 

G^e Cljtrtf anto JFotnrtl) SDaps. 

CHAPTER V. 

More Directions how to Fish for, and how 
to make for the Trout an Artificial Min- 
now and Flies; with some Merriment . . 114 

C&e fourth £)ap. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Observations of the Umber, or Grayling, and 
Directions how to Fish for him .... 161 

CHAPTER VII. 

Observations of the Salmon, with Directions 
how to Fish for him 164 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Observations of the Luce, or Pike, with 
Directions how to Fish for him 173 

CHAPTER IX. 

Observations of the Carp, with Directions 
how to Fish for him 188 



CONTENTS. IX 

CHAPTER X. 

Page 

Observations of the Bream, and Directions 
to Catch him 198 

CHAPTER XI. 

Observations of the Tench, and Advice how 
to Angle for him 207 

CHAPTER XII. 

Observations of the Perch, and Directions 
how to Fish for him 210 

CHAPTER XIII, 

Observations of the Eel, and other Fish 
that want Scales, and how to Fish for 

THEM 2l6 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Observations of the Barbel, and Directions 
how to Fish for him 225 

CHAPTER XV. 

Observations of the Gudgeon, the Ruffe, and 
the Bleak, and how to Fish for them . . 231 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Is of Nothing, or that which is Nothing 
worth 234 



X CONTENTS. 

Wot JFiftj) £>ap. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Page 
Of Roach and Dace, and how to Fish for 
them \ and of cadis 243 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Of the Minnow, or Penk, of the Loach, and 
of the Bull-Head, or Miller's-Thumb . . . 256 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Of several Rivers, and some Observations of 
Fish 261 

CHAPTER XX. 
Of Fish-Ponds and how to Order them . . 266 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Directions for making of a Line, and for 
the Coloring of both Rod and Line ... 271 



INTRODUCTION. 



FREDERICK SCHLEGEL once observed — 
and Coleridge paid him the compliment of steal- 
ing the aphorism — that "every man is born either 
a Platonist or an Aristotelian ; " is naturally predis- 
posed to unriddle the pageant of which he finds him- 
self a spectator, after the fashion of the Academy or 
of the Lyceum. 

Perhaps we are not to apply this maxim of Schle- 
gel's too literally ; but surely an arbitrary division of 
humanity into potential philosophers of one type or 
the other is too sweeping. The critics are not the 
only ones that come to the play; and quietly apart 
from the wrangling a-priorist and empiricist camps 
there has always been a section of mankind paradoxi- 
cally styled "philosophical" because of a natural 
inability and distaste to philosophize at all. To 
such unharassed, piously receptive souls the sense- 
world is a delightful spectacle benevolently arranged 
for their entertainment, where the mechanism by 
which the ingenious illusion is produced may be 
admired and applauded, without being intrusively 
pried into. They come, as it were, to enjoy, not to 
judge ; to commend, not to fret over the price of ad- 
mission, or to vex themselves and their neighbors 
with untimely misgivings as to foul weather impend- 



Xll INTRODUCTION. 

ing when the hour comes for leaving the playhouse. 
There is obviously a good deal to be said on the side 
of this easy sect, — sometimes, and not unreasonably, 
held by irreverent minds to be wiser than even the 
accredited Professors of Wisdom themselves. For 
since we now have it on the best philosophical au- 
thority that our transcendental pryings are in effect 
no better than a child's efforts to lay hold of the 
moon, it would seem, on Philosophy's own showing, 
to be high time for her votaries to turn from their 
noumenal will-o'-the-wisps, and to content them- 
selves with enjoying where they are not permitted 
to comprehend. 

With some reservations on the honorable score of 
an inbred religious bent, the author of the little book 
in the hand of the reader was a "philosopher" of the 
comfortable type indicated in the foregoing. / Izaak 
Walton was not the man to look Nature's gift-horses 
in the mouth. To his practical, shop-keeping sense 
an actual bird in the hand was worth any number of 
illusory birds in the metaphysical bush ; and we are 
inclined to believe that few men have entered this 
world blessed with a keener zest for its wholesomer 
pleasures (the " wireproved pleasures " of Milton), or, 
what is perhaps more to the point, kept that sense 
in its original nicety longer than this " Common 
Father of All Anglers." Nature, in balancing his 
account, has fondly placed it to the credit of Izaak 
Walton that for him no "fine, fresh May^ morning" 
ever dawned, no bird ever sang, or blossom shed its 
fragrance in vain. The outward details that remain 
to us of this life are sufficiently meagre; "comfort- 
ably " so, says Mr. Lowell, in the tone of one who 



INTRODUCTION. xiii 

has been in some sort a prey to modern journalistic 
espials. 

Walton was born of a family of substantial yeo- 
men at Stafford, on the 9th of August, 1593, the 
year of Marlowe's death, and twenty-two years be- 
fore Shakespeare's. Of his family we know next to 
nothing, minute research having developed little 
more than the rather spectral fact that his father, 
Jervis Walton, was probably the second son of 
George Walton, sometime bailiff of Yoxhall. Of his 
school days there is no record. One fancies, how- 
ever, that Izaak found the " contemplative man's 
recreation " more to his taste than the Classics ; as 
his writings testify that he had little Latin and no 
Greek, — his frequent quotations of authors who 
wrote only in Latin, as Gesner, Cardan, Aldrovandus, 
Rondeletius, and Albertus Magnus, being derived 
from Topsel's translation of Gesner, in whose vo- 
luminous history of animals the other writers are 
cited. His educational defects, except in the clas- 
sics, were in a measure supplied by later reading, 
and especially by familiar converse with eminent and 
learned divines of his day, of whom, says the Ox- 
ford antiquary, Anthony a- Wood, "he was much 
beloved." 

Some of Walton's critics have thought fit to sneer at, 
others, scarcely wiser, to gloss over, his imperfect at- 
tainments, and especially his defective Latinity. A 
lack of acquirements which are the indispensable prop 
and stay of mediocrity need not, however, detain us 
in the case of a man of real parts and performance. 
The learning of a Porson or an Erasmus would never 
have produced "The Complete Angler;" and had 



xiv INTRODUCTION. 

Walton, who revered learning, been nourished on a 
diet of Greek roots and particles, England would 
perhaps have gained a pedant at the price of a man 
of original merit and savor, — in most cases an un- 
desirable exchange. Among the trivialities of petti- 
fogging criticism there is, perhaps, none more abject 
than this belittling an author of natural gifts and 
invention on the score of his minor lapses in scholar- 
ship. Even Shakespeare has been brayed at for 
such slips as placing a seaport in Bohemia. 

Walton went up to London from Staffordshire 
sometime before 1619, and, until the date of his re- 
tirement in 1664 with a modest fortune, he seems to 
have followed the trade of a linendraper. His first 
settlement in London as a shopkeeper was at the 
Royal Exchange in Cornhill ; and the fact that the 
shops round the Exchange were but seven and a half 
feet long by five wide has started one of his editors, 
the fastidious Mr. Major, on the eminently British 
conjecture that Walton must have been a wholesale 
dealer, because his shop was too small for the dis- 
play of goods. This well-meant theory, benevolently 
devised to disinfect a vulgar occupation, has been 
properly upset and laughed at by later editors; and 
it will probably seem of little moment to any one out- 
side a class treated at some length by Thackeray, 
whether a man who could write the "Lives" and 
" The Angler " thought fit to serve his customers by 
the piece or by the gross. 

Sometime before 1624 Walton left the Exchange, 
and we find it recorded that " he dwelt on the north 
side of Fleet Street, in a house two doors west of 
Chancery Lane, and abutting on a messuage known 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

by the sign of ' The Harrow.' " His last settlement in 
the city was, according to the parish register of Saint 
Dunstan, in the seventh house from the corner of 
Chancery Lane; and we find it further recorded that 
he filled successively the parish offices of scavenger 
(not, we may suppose, in a malodorous way), jury- 
man, constable, grand-juryman, overseer of the poor, 
and vestryman. During his busy London life Wal- 
ton's chief recreation was, of course, angling, — an 
amusement profanely described by Swift, who, in- 
deed, stopped at nothing, as " a stick and a string, 
with a fly at one end and a fool at the other." In 
this gentle, maligned craft, Izaak was accounted the 
greatest proficient of his time; and his favorite 
haunt for the sport seems to have been the Lea, — a 
stream, we fancy, long stripped of its trout, to say 
nothing of its pleasant Waltonian inns, with their 
" lavender in the windows and twenty ballads stuck 
about the walls." These quaint hostelries inspired 
some of Walton's most characteristic passages. He 
never tires of ringing his pleasant changes upon their 
homely cheer; and one may venture to conjecture 
that if the joys awaiting good men in the next world 
are benevolently adjusted to their preferences in 
this, Izaak Walton is now reaping the reward of a 
well-spent life, in some celestial inn, o'ergrown with 
woodbine and honeysuckle, and presided over by a 
seraphic hostess " cleanly and handsome and civil " 
beyond the hostesses of this grosser mould. 

Walton was twice married, and, true to his predi- 
lection for the clergy, he went to them each time for 
his wife. His first venture was Rachel Floud, ma- 
ternally descended from Archbishop Cranmer. By 



XVi INTRODUCTION. 

her, who died in 1640, he had six sons and one 
daughter, all of whom died in infancy or early child- 
hood. His second wife, to whom he was married in 
1646, was Anne, daughter of Thomas Ken, and sister 
of Dr. Ken, Bishop of Bath and Wells, one of the 
stubborn seven sent to the Tower by James II. Of 
this marriage there were three children, — one son, 
Izaak, who lived but a short time ; a daughter, Anne ; 
and another Izaak, who survived his father, and died 
in 1 719, a canon of Salisbury and a worthy "brother 
of the angle." Anne Ken, the second wife, died in 
1662, as appears by a monumental inscription in the 
cathedral church of Worcester. Her epitaph, one 
of the quaintest of its kind and decked with sundry 
choice flowers of mortuary rhetoric, closes with the 
pious sentiment : — 

"She dyed, (Alas that she is dead!) 

the 17TH of April, 1662, aged 52 

Study to be like her" 

Of Walton's later life we know little, save that it 
was well spent. Somewhere about this period (1644- 
1646) he left London, and, with a fortune far short 
of what would now be termed a competence, retired 
to a small estate in Staffordshire, not far from his 
birthplace. In the words of Wood, "finding it 
dangerous for honest men to be there, he left the 
city, and lived sometimes at Stafford, and elsewhere ; 
but mostly in the families of the eminent clergymen 
of England, by whom he was much beloved." It 
will be remembered that the term " honest " had a 
religious and political import at that time; and that 



INTRODUCTION. XV11 

Walton occasionally suffered for his loyalty to Church 
and King, we have some hints in his " Life of Sander- 
son." That a good share of his leisure was spent 
with his friend and adopted son, Charles Cotton, a 
good poet, a cheerful man, and an angler scarcely 
second to Walton himself, there is no doubt. Cotton 
was a royalist country-gentleman of Beresford in 
Staffordshire, whose handsome estate, Mr. Lowell 
thinks, "after sidling safely through the intricacies 
of the civil war, trickled pleasantly away through 
the chinks of its master's profusion." He had built 
a little fishing-house, marked with his own and 
Walton's initials "twisted in cypher," on the banks 
of the Dove ; and the two friends must have spent 
many a pleasant morning together whipping the 
waters of the stream, and conversing of the authors 
they knew so well. 

Of the efficacy of the "most honest, ingenious, 
quiet, and harmless art of angling " in preserving the 
sound mind in the sound body, he himself was a liv- 
ing proof. He assures us in his will, written by him- 
self at near ninety, that he is " in perfect memory ; " 
and we find him at eighty-three planning a pilgrimage 
of more than a hundred miles — a serious matter at 
that day — to join his friend Cotton in fishing in the 
Dove. 

Walton died on the fifteenth day of December, 
1683, in his ninetieth year, at Winchester, and lies 
buried in a chapel in the south aisle of the cathedral. 
The verses to his memory, inscribed on a large flat 
slab of black marble, are so far from being what he 
would term "choicely good" that we refrain from 
quoting them. 

2 



XViii INTRODUCTION. 

We may now run over briefly the dates and titles 
of Walton's writings. His first appearance as an 
author seems to have been in 1633, in an Elegy 
which accompanied the first edition of Donne's 
poems Walton, though his taste in poetry was 
good, could boast but a limited share of the accom- 
plishment of verse; and the Elegy is neither above 
nor below his modest poetical level, Where his 
poetry is passable, it is chiefly because his prose 
merits, his amiable sincerity, and succinct phrase 
have crept in, 

Scarcely second in importance to " The Complete 
Angler " are the " Lives." Boswell records that 
this work was a prime favorite with Dr. Johnson; 
and he adds that the Doctor once observed (rather 
in Mr. Major's vein) that " it was wonderful that Wal- 
ton, who was in a very low situaticn in life, should 
have been familiarly received by so many great men, 
and that at a time when the ranks of society were 
kept more separate than they are now." 

There is perhaps ground for holding the gentle 
and courteous Walton's welcome in good society 
less "wonderful" than that of the Doctor him- 
self, — though Boswell is not likely to have sug- 
gested it. 

The inception of the " Lives " was due to a happy 
chance. While living in the parish of St. Dunstan 
in the West, Walton became the friend and frequent 
hearer of its vicar, the famous Dr. Donne, who was 
also dean of St. Paul's. Upon Donne's death in 
1 63 1, he was engaged to collect materials for a 
"Life" which Sir Henry Wotton, provost of Eton 
College, was to write ; but Wotton dying before the 



INTRODUCTION, XIX 

completion of his task, Walton was persuaded to 
go on with it ; and the " Life " was accordingly fin- 
ished — to the great satisfaction of Donne's friends 
— and published with a collection of the Doctor's 
sermons in 1640. 

■Walton's turn for biography having thus happily 
discovered itself, he found no lack of employment 
for the future. His remaining lives comprise Wot- 
ton (1651), Richard Hooker (1665), George Herbert 
(1670), and Bishop Sanderson (1678). 

"The Complete Angler " appeared in 1653, though 
it is probable it was begun some years before that. 
Owing to the engaging nature of subject and treat- 
ment, the work met with great success, reaching five 
editions in the author's lifetime, the second in 1655, 
the third in 1664, the fourth in 1668, and the fifth in 
1676. To the fifth edition was added a Second Part, 
written at Walton's request by his friend Cotton, and 
described as being " Instructions how to angle for a 
trout or grayling in a clear stream." It is really a 
treatise on fly-fishing, a branch in which Cotton was 
proficient and of which Walton knew very little, and 
it was intended by Walton to supplement the tech- 
nical deficiency of his own work. Cotton's part is 
in form a continuation of "The Angler;" the dia- 
logue is retained, some of the former characters re- 
appear, and there is an evident effort throughout to 
catch the tone of the original: but the charm is 
gone ; it is Walton, in short, minus what is pecu- 
liarly Walton, — salt without its savor, 

Walton's last literary task was the editing, and in 
a measure the re-writing, of "Thealma and Clear- 
chus," a "pastoral history" written by a certain 



XX INTRODUCTION. 

John Chalkhill, whose not very important identity has 
been the theme of much learned discussion. 

Walton's life, stretching over nearly a century, 
from the golden days when Shakespeare, Jonson, 
Massinger, and the rest of the Elizabethan "singing- 
birds " nested in the Mermaid, to the soberer era 
when Dryden swayed the sceptre of taste and letters 
at Will's coffee-house, opens many vistas to the 
fancy, It saw, in its quiet course, the imperious 
drama of Elizabeth's reign dwindle to its sorry con- 
clusion, — the peevish, sick-room tyranny of a dying 
old woman, reft of her arrogant illusions, doubtful 
at last even of her own charms, sans friends, sans 
flatterers, a sapless kernel shrivelling away from its 
gilded court -husk ; it saw the fall of Bacon, Strafford, 
and Laud, the rise of Pym, Hampden, and Cronv 
well; it heard the clash of pike and rapier at Edge- 
hill and Marston Moor, and saw the standard that 
was raised at Nottingham go down in blood at 
Naseby ; it saw the laurels won for England under 
the Protectorate fade after the Restoration, and 
heard the thunder of the Dutch cannon in the Med- 
way, — an ominous alarum that, as Pepys says, made 
" everybody nowadays reflect upon Oliver and com- 
mend him." 

Owing to a method of writing history now some- 
what discredited, it is events and characters like 
these that stir the fancy when we recall the England 
of Walton's date. The past has been so strained of 
its prose by the sieves of historians jealous for "the 
dignity of history," that we scarcely realize that, 
after all, it is the outwardly humdrum fortunes of 
Hodge and his kindred that form the weft and the 



INTRODUCTION. xxi 

warp of the nation's annals; and that in the days 
when the bickerings of King and Parliament were 
ruffling its surface, the main current of England's 
national life was flowing quietly enough. Izaak 
Walton, we may be sure, had no desire to follow the 
thundering drum, or to "go a-angling" in the turbid 
pool of politics. His party fervor was not of the 
feverish pitch that sets men upon convicting their 
fellow-citizens of error by the final logic of throat- 
cutting; so when the clouds of civil strife blackened 
over London, like a prudent man and a thrifty linen- 
draper, he put up his shutters, dismissed his 'pren- 
tices, packed his rods and his tackle, and hied away 
to the streams of quiet Staffordshire, where the trout 
were leaping into the sunshine, and the wary chub 
hung mid-deep in the shadows, and the pike lurked 
solitary in his jungle under the lily-pads. Like the 
prudent Mr. Piscator in " The Angler," when the 
shower came up, he seated himself under a honey- 
suckle hedge and waited till it was over. 

To more ardent spirits than his, this withdrawal 
from active partisanship to the more congenial paths 
of authorship and angling may smack unpleasantly 
of lukewarmness, not to say timidity; and Walton 
has been charged with both. Be that as it may, we 
at least have some reason to be thankful that Izaak 
Walton, instead of vaporing with Charles's cavaliers 
or singing truculent psalms with Oliver's roundheads, 
chose to serve his country according to his gifts by 
composing the " Lives " and " The Angler." Per- 
haps, too, Walton, as a contemplative man, reflected 
that if there was fighting to be done, there were 
plenty to do it out of sheer love for the game, not 



xxii INTR OD UCTION. 

unmingled perhaps with a little human weakness 
touching the final sharing of spoils. Fruitful lives 
like his, too, are not to be played fast and loose with. 
What had the world lost had Shakespeare fallen in 
some civil chance-medley of the times, — like the 
Essex brawl, — or had rare Ben Jonson been spitted 
on a Spanish pike in the Low Countries? 

But not to multiply casuistry here, let us pass on 
to a point at which Walton is plainly and ludicrously 
lacking. Oddly enough, it is a point at which he is 
in some respects strongest, — his sympathies. He 
speaks in the most tenderly caressing way of " the 
little living creatures with which the sun and sum- 
mer adorn and beautify the river-banks and mead- 
ows ; " he is loath even to disturb at its sweet labor 
"the little contemptible winged creature, namely, the 
laborious bee ; " he is as tender as Chaucer is of the 
blackbird and thrassel, the titlark, the little linnet, 
and "the honest robin that loves mankind both 
alive and dead;" in short, the sunny heart of Wal- 
ton has a ray of kindness for all God's humbler crea- 
tures, — except the fish. Here he is adamant. An 
angler, he tells us, does no harm but to the fish, and 
incidentally, of course, to the thousand and one luck- 
less beings he baits his hook with ; but this he counts 
as nothing. We have searched his pages in vain for 
a single expression of regret for the (from the fishes' 
point of view) devilish tortures he incites his disci- 
ples to inflict. Once we fancied we saw a ray of 
hope ; but it soon vanished : after describing to his 
" loving scholar " the proper mode of putting a frog 
upon the hook, he deceptively adds : " and in so 
doing, use him as though you loved him, that is. 



introduction: xxiii 

harm him as little as you may possibly, that he may 
live the longer," 1 — that is, that he may serve as bait 
the longer. The moment one of his "little living 
creatures " presents itself in the guise of bait, it for- 
feits all claim upon the otherwise abundant sympa- 
thy of Izaak Walton. Several writers, notably Byron 
and Leigh Hunt, have railed at him on this score; 
the former irreverently declaring in " Don Juan " 
that — 

" That quaint, old, cruel coxcomb in his gullet 
Should have a hook and a small trout to pull it ; " 

while Hunt, perhaps more with an eye to the capa- 
bilities in the way of literary development of the 
point of view than out of any tenderness for the fish, 
wrote : — 

"Now fancy a Genius fishing/<?r us. Fancy him bait- 
ing a great hook with pickled salmon, and twitching up 
old Izaak Walton from the banks of the river Lea, with 
the hook through his ear. How he would go up, roaring 
and screaming, and thinking the devil had got him ! 

' Other joys 
Are but toys.'" 

As intimated in the preface, this edition of Walton's 
masterpiece is designed chiefly for those who wish to 
enjoy it as a piece of literature rather than to consult 
it as a manual on fishing; and indeed we fancy that, 
in the latter capacity, it is largely superseded. Pass- 
ing over, then, its technical features, let us consider 
briefly what are the literary qualities which account 
for its survival and constant popularity, and make its 
author, with his relatively limited attainments and 
moderate production, one of the best known of the 



XXIV INTRODUCTION. 

older prose writers. Walton's vogue is doubtless 
largely due to the great men who have rung his 
praises ; for his distinctive note in authorship, es- 
pecially where it is most winning, is not of the re- 
sonant pitch that readily strikes the popular ear. 
Walter Scott, Dr. Johnson, Hallam, Lowell, Sheridan, 
Irving, have praised him ; and Charles Lamb said, 
among other pleasant things, of " The Angler," that it 
" would sweeten a man's temper at any time to read 
it, and Christianize every discordant passion." The 
key in which Lamb's encomium is pitched, and the 
indulgent, half-petting tone so often assumed toward 
Walton is no bad clew to his genre as a writer. One 
would scarcely venture on patronizing or petting the 
authors, say, of the " Novum Organum " and the 
" Principia." Walton's fame rests on no imposing 
achievement of intellectual power or sustained eleva- 
tion of style and sentiment. His merits are of the 
kindlier sort that grace the reverend names of Gold- 
smith, Steele, Montaigne, of Samuel Pepys, even, 
with whose cheerful garrulity he has much in com- 
mon. The pleasure " The Angler " gives us is akin 
to that we take in the artless prattle of children ; and 
no corrupt nature, we think, ever found pleasure in 
either. Frankness, innocence, the naive display of 
an engaging personality, a piety free from the twang 
of the conventicle, — these, mainly, are the saving 
qualities, the myrrh and frankincense that have kept 
this modest pastoral fresh and fragrant while so many 
pompous folios have been forgotten. Frankness 
is perhaps the virtue that lies at the root and feeds 
the blossom of Walton's charm ; and certainly the 
Muses have few gifts of which they are more chary. 



INTRODUCTION. XXV 

Like the black tulip, its value is the " scarcity value." 
There is no lack of orally garrulous Pepyses and 
Boswells, — fiuentraconteztrswith. memories of orient 
richness ; how rare, on the contrary, the Pepyses 
and Boswells who write ! Put but a pen in his hand, , 
and it is a hundred to one that the most ingenuous 
" agreeable rattle " of club and drawing-room is struck 
with sterility. 

Considered as a matter of literary form, it is true 
that Walton's artlessness, his concise simplicity of 
phrase, is not always as artless as it looks ; and Mr. 
Lowell has shown that a certain fine line of his 1 is 
the chastened result of repetition and experiment. 
Artistic nicety is not, however, incompatible with 
candor; Pheidias was more plain-spoken than the 
rude fashioners of the sexless xoana ; and the works 
of the guileless, amiably discursive Walton form no 
exception to the rule that the passages in an author 
which flow easiest are nine times in ten precisely the 
ones that have received his most careful elaboration. 
Again, much of Walton's charm is due to a turn, too 
rarely exercised, for infusing into his own style some- 
thing of the enchanting quaintness of phrase and 
fancy of his great contemporaries Jeremy Taylor and 
Sir Thomas Browne. There are crotchets and turns 
in the " Lives " and " The Angler " that Browne 
might have envied and Lamb have echoed; and in 
Walton's choicer passages the earmarks with delight 
that winding, "many-membered " period, fluctuating 
like the wayward melody of the wind-harp, borne (as 

1 " These hymns are now lost to us, but doubtless they were 
such as they two now sing in heaven." — Life of Herbert. 



XXVI INTRODUCTION. 

it seems) unpremeditated upon the wing of the 
fancies it embodies, which Taylor taught his con- 
temporaries, and himself carried to perfection in that 
famous description of the lark: — 

" For so I have seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, 
soaring upward and singing as he rises and hopes to get 
to Heaven, and climb above the clouds ; but the poor 
bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern 
wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant, de- 
scending more at every breath of the tempest than it could 
recover by the vibration and frequent weighing of its 
wings ; till the little creature was forced to sit down and 
pant and stay till the storm was over ; and then it made 
a prosperous flight, and did rise and sing as if it had 
learned music and motion from an angel as he passed 
sometimes through the air about his ministries here 
below." 

The reader of " The Angler " will not fail to mark 
that Walton's style is extremely uneven. Like the 
author of " The Urn Burial," he is fine in flashes ; 
and one sometimes wonders while reading him that 
a man who can write so well should at times take it 
upon his conscience to write so ill. 

But Izaak Walton's oases, his green and watered 
places, are frequent enough ; and the conscientious 
reader who toils his way through the briery jungles 
(and even there he may pluck an occasional berry) 
of the tangled dissertations on hooks and tackle and 
bait and primitive piety, may be cheerfully sure of 
emerging presently in some green meadow studded 
with cowslips and lady-smocks and sweet with the 
breath of hawthorn and honeysuckle, where the 
larks are soaring skyward, and tuneful milkmaids 



INTRODUCTION. XXV11 

are singing the smooth verses of Kit Marlowe and 
Sir Walter Raleigh. 

Such were the scenes that Walton loved ; and it is 
perhaps the prime merit of " The Angler " that it 
induces a relish for scenes like them. It tempts us 
out of doors, and renews our taste for the wholesome 
pleasures of the country, — for the primitive sights 
and sounds and odors to which, as the poets who 
know life best have told us, the jaded senses turn 
back with longing when the hand of the ringer is at 
the passing bell. Even obscene old Falstaff, steeped 
in the riot of tavern and brothel, when the end came, 
" babbled of green fields." 

But it is time for the present writer to step aside, 
and to say, with courteous Mr. Piscator, " I cry you 
mercy for being so long, and thank you for your 
patience." 

E. G. J. 

October, 1892. 



Dttucattom 



TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL 

JOHN OFFLEY, 

OF MADELEY MANOR, IN THE COUNTY OF STAF- 
FORD, ESQ. 



My most honored Friend : 

Sir, — I have made so ill use of your former 
favors as by them to be encouraged to entreat that 
they may be enlarged to the patronage and protec- 
tion of this book. And I have put on a modest con- 
fidence that I shall not be denied, because it is a 
Discourse of Fish and Fishing, which you know so 
well, and both love and practise so much. 

You are assured, though there be ignorant men of 
another belief, that Angling is an art, and you know 
that art better than others; and that this truth is de- 
monstrated by the fruits of that pleasant labor which 
you enjoy when you purpose to give rest to your 
mind, and divest yourself of your more serious busi- 
ness, and, which is often, dedicate a day or two to 
this recreation. 

At which time, if common anglers should attend 
you, and be eyewitnesses of the success not of your 
fortune but your skill, it would doubtless beget in 
them an emulation to be like you, and that emulation 



XXX DEDICA TION. 

might beget an industrious diligence to be so ; but I 
know it is not attainable by common capacities. And 
there be now many men of great wisdom, learning, 
and experience, which love and practise this art, that 
know I speak the truth. 

Sir, this pleasant curiosity of fish and fishing, of 
which you are so great a master, has been thought 
worthy the pens and practices of divers in other na- 
tions that have been reputed men of great learning 
and wisdom. And amongst those of this nation I 
remember Sir Henry Wotton, a dear lover of this art, 
has told me that his intentions were to write a dis- 
course of the art, and in praise of angling; and 
doubtless he had done so if death had not prevented 
him : the remembrance of which hath often made me 
sorry ; for if he had lived to do it, then the unlearned 
angler had seen some better treatise of this art, — a 
treatise that might have proved worthy his perusal, 
which, though some have undertaken, I could never 
yet see in English. 

But mine may be thought as weak and as unworthy 
of common view ; and I do here freely confess that I 
should rather excuse myself than censure others, my 
own Discourse being liable to so many exceptions; 
against which you, sir, might make this one, — that 
it can contribute nothing to your knowledge. And 
lest a longer epistle may diminish your pleasure, I 
shall make this no longer than to add this following 
truth, — that I am really, Sir, 

Your most affectionate friend 

And most humble servant, 

Iz. Wa. 



TO 

ALL READERS OF THIS DISCOURSE, 

BUT ESPECIALLY 

TO THE HONEST ANGLER. 



I think fit to tell thee these following truths, — 
that I did neither undertake, nor write, nor publish, 
and much less own, this Discourse to please myself; 
and, having been too easily drawn to do all to please 
others, as I propose not the gaining of credit by this 
undertaking, so I would not willingly lose any part of 
that to which I had a just title before I begun it, and 
do therefore desire and hope, if I deserve not com- 
mendations, yet I may obtain pardon. 

And though this Discourse may be liable to some 
exceptions, yet I cannot doubt but that most readers 
may receive so much pleasure or profit by it, as may 
make it worthy the time of their perusal, if they be 
not too grave or too busy men. And this is all the 
confidence that I can put on, concerning the merit of 
what is here offered to their consideration and cen- 
sure ; and if the last prove too severe, as I have a 
liberty, so I am resolved to use it, and neglect all 
sour censures. 

And I wish the reader also to take notice, that in 
writing of it I have made myself a recreation of a 
recreation. And that it might prove so to him, and 
not read dull and tediously, I have in several places 
mixed, not any scurrility, but some innocent, harmless 



XXXU DEDICA TION. 

mirth : of which, if thou be a severe, sour-complex- 
ioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a compe- 
tent judge ; for divines say, there are offences given, 
and offences not given but taken. 

And I am the willinger to justify the pleasant part 
of it, because though it is known I can be serious at 
seasonable times, yet the whole Discourse is, or 
rather was, a picture of my own disposition, espe- 
cially in such days and times as I have laid aside 
business, and gone a-fishing with honest Nat and R. 
Roe ; but they are gone, and with them most of my 
pleasant hours, even as a shadow that passeth away 
and returns not. 

Next let me tell the reader, that in that which is 
the more useful part of this Discourse, that is to say, 
the observations of the nature and breeding and 
seasons and catching of fish, I am not so simple as 
not to know that a captious reader may find excep- 
tions against something said of some of these; and 
therefore I must entreat him to consider that experi- 
ence teaches us to know that several countries alter 
the time, and I think almost the manner, of fishes' 
breeding, but doubtless of their being in season; as 
may appear by three rivers in Monmouthshire, name- 
ly, Severn, Wye, and Usk, where Camden (" Brit. 
Fishes," fol. 633) observes, that in the river Wye 
salmon are in season from September to April; and 
we are certain that in Thames and Trent, and in 
most other rivers, they be in season the six hotter 
months. 

Now, for the art of catching fish, that is to say, how 
to make a man that was none, to be an angler by a 
book ; he that undertakes it shall undertake a harder 



DEDICA TION. XXX111 

task than Mr. Hales, a most valiant and excellent 
fencer, who in a printed book called "A Private 
School of Defence " undertook to teach that art or 
science, and was laughed at for his labor. Not but 
that many useful things might be learned by that 
book, but he was laughed at because that art was not 
to be taught by words, but practice ; and so must 
angling. And note, also, that in this Discourse I do 
not undertake to say all that is known, or may be 
said of it, but I undertake to acquaint the reader 
with many things that are not usually known to every 
angler ; and I shall leave gleanings and observations 
enough to be made out of the experience of all that 
love and practise this recreation, to which I shall 
encourage them. For angling may be said to be so 
like the mathematics that it can never be fully 
learned ; at least not so fully but that there will still 
be more new experiments left for the trial of other 
men that succeed us. 

But I think all that love this game may here learn 
something that may be worth their money, if they be 
not poor and needy men ; and in case they be, I then 
wish them to forbear to buy it, for I write not to get 
money, but for pleasure, and this Discourse boasts of 
no more; for I hate to promise much, and deceive 
the reader. 

And however it proves to him, yet I am sure I have 
found a high content in the search and conference of 
what is here offered to the reader's view and censure ; 
I wish him as much in the perusal of it. And so I 
might here take my leave; but will stay a little and 
tell him that whereas it is said by many that in fly- 
fishing for a trout the angler must observe his twelve 
several flies for the twelve months of the year, I say 
3 



XXXIV DEDICA TION. 

he that follows that rule shall be as sure to catch fish, 
and be as wise as he that makes hay by the fair days 
in an almanac, and no surer; for those very flies that 
use to appear about and on the water in one month 
of the year, may the following year come almost a 
month sooner or later, as the same year proves colder 
or hotter; and yet, in the following Discourse, I have 
set down the twelve flies that are in reputation with 
many anglers, and they may serve to give him some 
observations concerning them. And he may note 
that there are, in Wales and other countries, peculiar 
flies proper to the particular place or country ; and 
doubtless, unless a man makes a fly to counterfeit 
that very fly in that place, he is like to lose his labor, 
or much of it : but for the generality, three or four 
flies, neat and rightly made, and not too big, serve 
for a trout in most rivers all the summer. And for 
winter fly-fishing, it is as useful as an almanac out of 
date. And of these, because as no man is born an 
artist, so no man is born an angler, I thought fit to 
give thee this notice. 

When I have told the reader that in this fifth im- 
pression there are many enlargements, 1 gathered both 
by my own observation and the communication with 
friends, I shall stay him no longer than to wish him 
a rainy evening to read this following Discourse; 
and that, if he be an honest angler, the east wind 
may never blow when he goes a-fishing. 

I. W. 

1 Chiefly Cotton's treatise, which we omit. — Ed. 



The Complete Angler 



CHAPTER I. 

A CONFERENCE BETWIXT AN ANGLER, A HUNTER, 
AND A FALCONER, EACH COMMENDING HIS REC- 
REATION. 



Piscator, Venator, Auceps. 

p/SCATOR. You are well overtaken, gentle- 
men : a good morning to you both. I have 
stretched my legs up Tottenham Hill to overtake 
you, hoping your business may occasion you to- 
wards Ware, whither I am going this fine, fresh 
May morning. 

Ve?mtor. Sir, I for my part shall almost answer 
your hopes ; for my purpose is to drink my morn- 
ing's draught at the Thatched House in Hoddes- 
den ; and I think not to rest till I come thither, 
where I have appointed a friend or two to meet 
me : but for this gentleman that you see with me, 
I know not how far he intends his journey ; he 



36 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

came so lately into my company that I have 
scarcely had time to ask him the question. 

Auceps. Sir, I shall, by your favor, bear you 
company as far as Theobald's, and there leave 
you ; for then I turn up to a friend's house, who 
mews a hawk * for me, which I now long to see. 

Veil. Sir, we are all so happy as to have a fine, 
fresh, cool morning, and I hope we shall each be 
the happier in the others' company. And, gentle- 
men, that I may not lose yours, I shall either abate 
or amend my pace to enjoy it ; knowing that, as 
the Italians say, good company in a journey makes 
the way to seem the shorter. 

Aue. It may do so, sir, with the help of good 
discourse, which, methinks, we may promise from 
you, that both look and speak so cheerfully ; and 
for my part I promise you, as an invitation to it, 
that I will be as free and open-hearted as discre- 
tion will allow me to be with strangers. 

Ven. And, sir, I promise the like. 

Pise. I am right glad to hear your answers ; 
and in confidence you speak the truth, I shall put 
on a boldness to ask you, sir, whether business or 
pleasure caused you to be so early up, and walk 
so fast ; for this other gentleman hath declared 
he is going to see a hawk, that a friend mews for 
him. 

1 "Mews a hawk," from the French word mue: the care 
taken of a hawk during the moulting-season, from about the first 
of March till August; hence the places where hawks were trained 
and kept were called mens. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER 37 

Ven. Sir, mine is a mixture of both, a little 
business and more pleasure ; for I intend this day 
to do all my business, and then bestow another 
day or two in hunting the otter, which a friend that 
I go to meet tells me is much pleasanter than any 
other chase whatsoever ; howsoever I mean to try 
it ; for to-morrow morning we shall meet a pack of 
otter-dogs of noble Mr. Sadler's, upon Amwell Hill, 
who will be there so early that they intend to pre- 
vent the sun-rising. 

Pise. Sir, my fortune has answered my desires, 
and my purpose is to bestow a day or two in help- 
ing to destroy some of those villanous vermin, for 
I hate them perfectly, because they love fish so 
well, or rather, because they destroy so much, — in- 
deed so much that, in my judgment, all men that 
keep otter-dogs ought to have pensions from the 
King to encourage them to destroy the breed of 
these base otters, they do so much mischief. 

Ven. But what say you to the foxes of the na- 
tion ? Would not you as willingly have them de- 
stroyed? for doubtless they do as much mischief 
as otters do. 

Pise. Oh, sir, if they do, it is not so much to 
me and my fraternity as those base vermin the 
otters do. 

Auc. Why, sir, I pray, of what fraternity are you, 
that you are so angry with the poor otters ? 

Pise. I am, sir, a brother of the angle, and there- 
fore an enemy to the otter : for you are to note 
that we anglers all love one another, and therefore 



38 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

do I hate the otter both for my own and for their 
sakes who are of my brotherhood. 

Ven. And I am a lover of hounds ; I have fol- 
lowed many a pack of dogs many a mile, and heard 
many merry huntsmen make sport and scoff at 
anglers. 

Auc. And I profess myself a falconer, and have 
heard many grave, serious men pity them, 't is 
such a heavy, contemptible, dull recreation. 

Pise. You know, gentlemen, 't is an easy thing 
to scoff at any art or recreation : a little wit, mixed 
with ill-nature, confidence, and malice, will do it ; 
but though they often venture boldly, yet they are 
often caught, even in their own trap, according 
to that of Lucian, the father of the family of 
scoffers. 

" Lucian, well skilled in scoffing, this hath writ: 
Friend, that 's your folly, which you think your wit ; 
This you vent oft, void both of wit and fear, 
Meaning another, when yourself you jeer." 

If to this you add what Solomon says of scoffers, 
that they are an " abomination to mankind," let 
him that thinks fit scoff on, and be a scoffer still ; 
but I account them enemies to me and all that 
love virtue and angling. 

And for you that have heard many grave, serious 
men pity anglers, let me tell you, sir, there be many 
men that are by others taken to be serious and 
grave men, whom we contemn and pity : men 
that are taken to be grave, because nature hath 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 39 

made them of a sour complexion ; money-getting 
men, — men that spend all their time, first in getting, 
and next in anxious care to keep it ; men that are 
condemned to be rich, and then always busy or 
discontented, — for these poor rich men we anglers 
pity them perfectly, and stand in no need to bor- 
row their thoughts to think ourselves so happy. 
No, no, sir, we enjoy a contentedness above the 
reach of such dispositions ; and as the learned and 
ingenuous Montaigne says 1 like himself, freely, 
" When my cat and I entertain each other with 
mutual apish tricks, as playing with a garter, who 
knows but that I make my cat more sport than 
she makes me ? Shall I conclude her to be simple, 
that has her time to begin or refuse to play as freely 
as I myself have ? Nay, who knows but that it is 
a defect of my not understanding her language 
(for doubtless cats talk and reason with one an- 
other) that we agree no better ; and who knows 
but that she pities me for being no wiser than to 
play with her, and laughs and censures my folly for 
making sport for her, when we two play together ? " 
Thus freely speaks Montaigne concerning cats, 
and I hope I may take as great a liberty to blame 
any man, and laugh at him too, let him be never so 
grave, that hath not heard what anglers can say in 
the justification of their art and recreation ; which 
I may again tell you is so full of pleasure that we 
need not borrow their thoughts, to think ourselves 
happy. 

1 In his " Apology for Raimonde de Sebonde." 



40 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Ven. Sir, you have almost amazed me ; for 
though I am no scoffer, yet I have, pray let me 
speak it without offence, always looked upon 
anglers as more patient and more simple men 
than I fear I shall find you to be. 

Pise. Sir, I hope you will not judge my earnestness 
to be impatience ; and for my simplicity, if by that 
you mean a harmlessness, or that simplicity which 
was usually found in the primitive Christians, who 
were, as most anglers are, quiet men and followers 
of peace, — men that were so simply wise as not to 
sell their consciences to buy riches, and with them 
vexation and a fear to die ; if you mean such simple 
men as lived in those times when there were fewer 
lawyers, when men might have had a lordship safely 
conveyed to them in a piece of parchment no big- 
ger than your hand, though several sheets will not 
do it safely in this wiser age, — I say, sir, if you 
take us anglers to be such simple men as I have 
spoken of, then myself and those of my profession 
will be glad to be so understood : but if by sim- 
plicity you meant to express a general defect in 
those that profess and practise the excellent art 
of angling, I hope in time to disabuse you, 
and make the contrary appear so evidently, that 
if you will but have patience to hear me, I shall 
remove all the anticipations that discourse or 
time or prejudice have possessed you with 
against that laudable and ancient art ; for I 
know it is worthy the knowledge and practice 
of a wise man. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 4 1 

But, gentlemen, though I be able to do this, I 
am not so unmannerly as to engross all the dis- 
course to myself; and, therefore, you two having 
declared yourselves, the one to be a lover of hawks, 
the other of hounds, I shall be most glad to hear 
what you can say in the commendation of that 
recreation which each of you love and practise ; 
and having heard what you can say, I shall be glad 
to exercise your attention with what I can say con- 
cerning my own recreation and art of angling, and 
by this means we shall make the way seem the 
shorter ; and if you like my motion, I would have 
Mr. Falconer to begin. 

Auc. Your motion is consented to with all my 
heart ; and, to testify it, I will begin as you have 
desired me. 

And first for the element that I use to trade in, 
which is the air, — an element of more worth than 
weight, an element that doubtless exceeds both the 
earth and water ; for though I sometimes deal in 
both, yet the air is most properly mine, — I and 
my hawks use that, and it yields us most recreation. 
It stops not the high soaring of my noble, generous 
falcon ; in it she ascends to such an height as the 
dull eyes of beasts and fish are not able to reach 
to, — their bodies are too gross for such high ele- 
vations : in the air my troops of hawks soar up on 
high, and when they are lost in the sight of men, 
then they attend upon and converse with the gods ; 
therefore I think my eagle is so justly styled Jove's 
servant in ordinary ; and that very falcon that I 



42 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

am now going to see deserves no meaner a title, for 
she usually in her flight endangers herself, like the 
son of Daedalus, to have her wings scorched by the 
sun's heat, she flies so near it, but her mettle makes 
her careless of danger ; for then she heeds nothing, 
but makes her nimble pinions cut the fluid air, and 
so makes her highway over the steepest mountains 
and deepest rivers, and in her glorious career looks 
with contempt upon those high steeples and mag- 
nificent palaces which we adore and wonder at; 
from which height I can make her descend by a word 
from my mouth, which she both knows and obeys, 
to accept of meat from my hand, to own me for 
her master, to go home with me, and be willing the 
next day to afford me the like recreation. 

And more : this element of air which I pro- 
fess to trade in, the worth of it is such, and it is 
of such necessity, that no creature whatsoever — 
not only those numerous creatures that feed on 
the face of the earth, but those various creatures 
that have their dwelling within the waters, — 
every creature that hath life in its nostrils stands 
in need of my element. The waters cannot pre- 
serve the fish without air, witness the not breaking 
of ice in an extreme frost ; the reason is, for that 
if the inspiring and expiring organ of any animal 
be stopped, it suddenly yields to nature, and dies. 
Thus necessary is air to the existence both of 
fish and beasts, nay, even to man himself; that 
air, or breath of life, with which God at first in- 
spired mankind, he, if he wants it, dies presently, 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 43 

becomes a sad object to all that loved and beheld 
him, and in an instant turns to putrefaction. 

Nay, more : the very birds of the air, those that 
be not hawks, are both so many and so useful and 
pleasant to mankind that I must not let them pass 
without some observations. They both feed and 
refresh him ; feed him with their choice bodies, 
and refresh him with their heavenly voices (I 
will not undertake to mention the several kinds of 
fowl by which this is done), and his curious palate 
pleased by day, and which with their very excre- 
ments afford him a soft lodging at night. These I 
will pass by, but not those little nimble musicians 
of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, 
with which nature hath furnished them to the 
shame of art 

As first the lark, when she means to rejoice, to 
cheer herself and those that hear her, she then 
quits the earth, and sings as she ascends higher 
into the air, and having ended her heavenly em- 
ployment, grows then mute and sad to think she 
must descend to the dull earth, which she would 
not touch but for necessity. 1 

How do the blackbird and thrassel with their 
melodious voices bid welcome to the cheerful 

1 Ethereal minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky ! 

Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? 
Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye 
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground ? 
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, 
Those quivering wings composed, that music still ! 

Wordsworth . To a Skylark. 



44 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

spring, and in their fixed months warble forth 
such ditties as no art or instrument can reach to ! 

Nay, the smaller birds also do the like in their 
particular seasons, as namely the laverock, the tit- 
lark, the little linnet, and the honest robin, that 
loves mankind both alive and dead. 

But the nightingale, another of my airy crea- 
tures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her 
little instrumental throat, that it might make man- 
kind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at 
midnight, when the very laborer sleeps securely, 
should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, 
the sweet descants, the natural rising and /ailing 
the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well 
be lifted above earth, and say, " Lord, what music 
hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when 
thou affordest bad men such music on earth ! " 

And this makes me the less to wonder at the 
many aviaries in Italy, or at the great charge of 
Varro's aviary, the ruins of which are yet to be 
seen in Rome, and is still so famous there that it 
is reckoned for one of those notables which men 
of foreign nations either record, or lay up in their 
memories when they return from travel. 

This for the birds of pleasure, of which very 
much more might be said. My next shall be of 
birds of political use. I think 'tis not to be 
doubted that swallows have been taught to carry 
letters between two armies. But 't is certain that 
when the Turks besieged Malta or Rhodes, I now 
remember not which it was, pigeons are then re- 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 45 

lated to carry and recarry letters ; and Mr. G. 
Sandys, in his " Travels," relates it to be done be- 
twixt Aleppo and Babylon. But if that be disbe- 
lieved, it is not to be doubted that the dove was 
sent out of the ark by Noah, to give him notice 
of land, when to him all appeared to be sea ; and 
the dove proved a faithful and comfortable messen- 
ger. And for the sacrifices of the law, a pair of 
turtle-doves or young pigeons were as well ac- 
cepted as costly bulls and rams. And when God 
would feed the prophet Elijah (1 Kings xvii. 4-6) 
after a kind of miraculous manner, he did it by 
ravens, who brought him meat morning and eve- 
ning. Lastly, the Holy Ghost, when he descended 
visibly upon our Saviour, did it by assuming the 
shape of a dove. And, to conclude this part of 
my discourse, pray remember these wonders were 
done by birds of the air, the element in which 
they and I take so much pleasure. 

There is also a little contemptible winged crea- 
ture, an inhabitant of my aerial element, namely, 
the laborious bee, of whose prudence, policy, and 
regular government of their own commonwealth I 
might say much, as also of their several kinds, and 
how useful their honey and wax is both for meat 
and medicines to mankind ; but I will leave them 
to their sweet labor, without the least disturbance, 
believing them to be all very busy at this very time 
amongst the herbs and flowers that we see nature 
puts forth this May morning. 

And now to return to my hawks, from whom I 



46 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 

have made too long a digression. You are to note 
that they are usually distinguished into two kinds ; 
namely, the long-winged and the short-winged 
hawk. Of the first kind there be chiefly in use 
amongst us in this nation, 

The gerfalcon and jerkin, 
The falcon and tassel-gentle, 
The laner and laneret, 
The bockerel and bockeret, 
The saker and sacaret, 
The merlin and jack merlin, 
The hobby and jack. 

There is the stelletto of Spain, 

The blood-red rook from Turkey, 
The waskite from Virginia. 

And there is of short-winged hawks, 
The eagle and iron, 
The goshawk and tarcel, 
The sparhawk and musket, 
The French pye of two sorts. 

These are reckoned hawks of note and worth, 
but we have also of an inferior rank, 

The stanyel, the ringtail, 

The raven, the buzzard, 

The forked kite, the bald buzzard, 

The hen-driver, and others that I forbear to name. 

Gentlemen, if I should enlarge my discourse to 
the observations of the eires, the brancher, the 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 47 

ramish hawk, the haggard, and the two sorts of 
lentners, and then treat of their several eyries, 
their mewings, rare order of casting, and the re- 
novation of their feathers, their reclaiming, diet- 
ing, and then come to their rare stories of prac- 
tice, — I say, if I should enter into these, and many 
other observations that I could make, it would be 
much, very much pleasure to me ; but lest I should 
break the rules of civility with you, by taking up 
more than the proportion of time allotted to me, I 
will here break off, and entreat you, Mr. Venator, 
to say what you are able in the commendation of 
hunting, to which you are so much affected ; and 
if time will serve, I will beg your favor for a further 
enlargement of some of those several heads of 
which I have spoken. But no more at present. 
Ven. Well, sir, and I will now take my turn, 
and will first begin with a commendation of the 
earth, as you have done most excellently of the air ; 
the earth being that element upon which I drive 
my pleasant, wholesome, hungry trade. The earth 
is a solid, settled element ; an element most uni- 
versally beneficial both to man and beast : to men 
who have their several recreations upon it, as 
horse-races, hunting, sweet smells, pleasant walks. 
The earth feeds man, and all those several beasts 
that both feed him and afford him recreation. 
What pleasure doth man take in hunting the stately 
stag, the generous buck, the wild boar, the cunning 
otter, the crafty fox, and the fearful hare ! And if 
I may descend to a lower game, what pleasure is 



48 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

it sometimes with gins to betray the very vermin of 
the earth, as namely the fichat, the fulimart, the 
ferret, the pole-cat, the mouldwarp, and the like 
creatures that live upon the face and within the 
bowels of the earth ! How doth the earth bring 
forth herbs, flowers, and fruits, both for physic 
and the pleasure of mankind ! and above all, to 
me at least, the fruitful vine, of which when I 
drink moderately, it clears my brain, cheers my 
heart, and sharpens my wit. How could Cleopatra 
have feasted Mark Antony with eight wild boars 
roasted whole at one supper, and other meat suit- 
able, if the earth had not been a bountiful mother ? 
But to pass by the mighty elephant, which the 
earth breeds and nourisheth, and descend to the 
least of creatures, how doth the earth afford us a 
doctrinal example in the little pismire, who in the 
summer provides and lays up her winter provision, 
and teaches man to do the like ! The earth feeds 
and carries those horses that carry us. If I would 
be a prodigal of my time and your patience, what 
might not I say in commendation of the earth, 
that puts limits to the proud and raging sea, and 
by that means preserves both man and beast, that it 
destroys them not, as we see it daily doth those that 
venture upon the sea, and are there shipwrecked, 
drowned, and left to feed haddocks; when we 
that are so wise as to keep ourselves on earth, 
walk, and talk, and live, and eat, and drink, and 
go a-hunting ; of which recreation I will say a lit- 
tle, and then leave Mr. Piscator to the commenda- 
tion of angling. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 49 

Hunting is a game for princes and noble per- 
sons ; it hath been highly prized in all ages ; it was 
one of the qualifications that Xenophon bestowed 
on his Cyrus, that he was a hunter of wild beasts. 
Hunting trains up the younger nobility to the use 
of manly exercises in their riper age. What more 
manly exercise than hunting the wild boar, the 
stag, the buck, the fox, or the hare ? How doth it 
preserve health, and increase strength and activity ! 

And for the dogs that we use, who can commend 
their excellency to that height which they deserve ? 
How perfect is the hound at smelling, who never 
leaves or forsakes his first scent, but follows it 
through so many changes and varieties of other 
scents, even over and in the water and into the 
earth? What music doth a pack of dogs then 
make to any man whose heart and ears are so 
happy as to be set to the tune of such instruments ! 
How will a right greyhound fix his eye on the best 
buck in a herd, single him out, and follow him, and 
him only, through a whole herd of rascal x game, 
and still know and then kill him ! For my hounds, 
I know the language of them, and they know the 
language and meaning of one another, as perfectly 
as we know the voices of those with whom we dis- 
course daily. 

I might enlarge myself in the commendation of 
hunting, and of the noble hound especially, as also 
of the docibleness of dogs in general ; and I might 

1 " Rascal " (from the Saxon) : a lean beast ; used by hunters 
in the sense of " worthless game." See Nares's Glossary. 
4 



50 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

make many observations of land-creatures, that for 
composition, order, figure, and constitution, ap- 
proach nearest to the completeness and under- 
standing of man, — especially of those creatures 
which Moses in the Law permitted to the Jews, 
which have cloven hoofs, and chew the cud ; which 
I shall forbear to name, because I will not be so 
uncivil to Mr. Piscator as not to allow him a time 
for the commendation of angling, which he calls 
an art; but doubtless it is an easy one : and, Mr. 
Auceps, I doubt we shall hear a watery discourse 
of it, but I hope it will not be a long one. 

Auc. And I hope so too, though I fear it will. 

Pise. Gentlemen, let not prejudice prepossess 
you. I confess my discourse is like to prove suit- 
able to my recreation, calm and quiet. We seldom 
take the name of God into our mouths, but it is 
either to praise him or to pray to him ; if others 
use it vainly in the midst of their recreations, so 
vainly as if they meant to conjure, I must tell you 
it is neither our fault nor our custom ; we protest 
against it. But pray remember I accuse nobody ; 
for as I would not make a watery discourse, so I 
would not put too much vinegar into it ; nor would 
I raise the reputation of my own art by the diminu- 
tion or ruin of another's. And so much for the 
prologue to what I mean to say. 

And now for the water, the element that I trade 
in. The water is the eldest daughter of the crea- 
tion, the element upon which the Spirit of God did 
first move, the element which God commanded to 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 5 I 

bring forth living creatures abundantly, and with- 
out which those that inhabit the land, even all 
creatures that have breath in their nostrils, must 
suddenly return to putrefaction. Moses, the great 
lawgiver and chief philosopher, skilled in all the 
learning of the Egyptians, who was called the friend 
of God, and knew the mind of the Almighty, names 
this element the first in the creation : this is the ele- 
ment upon which the Spirit of God did first move, 
and is the chief ingredient in the creation ; many 
philosophers have made it to comprehend all the 
other elements, and most allow it the chiefest in 
the mixtion of all living creatures. 

There be that profess to believe that all bodies 
are made of water, and may be reduced back again 
to water only. They endeavor to demonstrate it 
thus : — 

Take a willow, or any like speedy-growing plant, 
newly rooted in a box or barrel full of earth, weigh 
them altogether exactly when the trees begin to 
grow, and then weigh them altogether after the 
tree is increased from its first rooting to weigh an 
hundred pound weight more than when it was first 
rooted and weighed ; and you shall find this aug- 
ment of the tree to be without the diminution of 
one drachm weight of the earth. Hence they in- 
fer this increase of wood to be from water or rain 
or from dew, and not to be from any other element. 
And they affirm they can reduce this wood back 
again to water ; and they affirm, also, the same may 
be done in any animal or vegetable. And this I 



52 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

take to be a fair testimony of the excellency of my 
element of water. 

The water is more productive than the earth. 
Nay, the earth hath no fruitfulness without showers 
or dews ; for all the herbs and flowers and fruits are 
produced and thrive by the water ; and the very 
minerals are fed by streams that run under ground, 
whose natural course carries them to the tops of 
many high mountains, as we see by several springs 
breaking forth on the tops of the highest hills ; and 
this is also witnessed by the daily trial and testi- 
mony of several miners. 

Nay, the increase of those creatures that are 
bred and fed in the water are not only more and 
more miraculous, but more advantageous to man, 
not only for the lengthening of his life, but for pre- 
venting of sickness ; for it is observed by the most 
learned physicians, that the casting off of Lent and 
other fish-days, which hath not only given the lie 
to so many learned, pious, wise founders of col- 
leges, for which we should be ashamed, has doubt- 
less been the chief cause of those many putrid, 
shaking, intermitting agues, unto which this nation 
of ours is now more subject than those wiser coun- 
tries that feed on herbs, sallets, and plenty of fish ; 
of which it is observed in story, that the greatest 
part of the world now do. And it may be fit to 
remember that Moses (Lev. xi. 9 ; Deut. xiv. 9) 
appointed fish to be the chief diet for the best com- 
monwealth that ever yet was. 

And it is observable, not only that there are fish. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 53 

as namely the whale, 1 three times as big as the 
mighty elephant, that is so fierce in battle, but that 
the mightiest feasts have been offish. The Romans, 
in the height of their glory, have made fish the 
mistress of all their entertainments ; they have had 
music to usher in their sturgeons, lampreys, and 
mullets, which they would purchase at rates rather 
to be wondered at than believed. He that shall 
view the writings of Macrobius or Varro may be 
confirmed and informed of this, and of the in- 
credible value of their fish and fish-ponds. 

But, gentlemen, I have almost lost myself, which 
I confess I may easily do in this philosophical dis- 
course ; I met with most of it very lately, and I 
hope happily, in a conference with a most learned 
physician, Dr. Wharton, a dear friend, that loves 
both me and my art of angling. But, however, I 
will wade no deeper in these mysterious arguments, 
but pass to such observations as I can manage with 
more pleasure, and less fear of running into error. 
But I must not yet forsake the waters, by whose 
help we have so many advantages. 

And, first, to pass by the miraculous cures of our 
known baths, how advantageous is the sea for our 
daily traffic, without which we could not now sub- 
sist ! How does it not only furnish us with food 
and physic for the bodies, but with such observa- 

1 We may observe here, once for all, that we shall not pay the 
reader the poor compliment of pointing out Walton's frequent er- 
rors as to elementary facts of natural history. His credulity in 
these matters is sometimes surprising. 



54 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

tions for the mind as ingenious persons would not 
want ! 

How ignorant had we been of the beauty of 
Florence, of the monuments, urns, and rarities that 
yet remain in and near unto old and new Rome, so 
many as it is said will take up a year's time to view, 
and afford to each of them but a convenient con- 
sideration ! And therefore it is not to be won- 
dered at, that so learned and devout a father as 
Saint Jerome, after his wish to have seen Christ in 
the flesh, and to have heard Saint Paul preach, 
makes his third wish, to have seen Rome in her 
glory : and that glory is not yet all lost, for what 
pleasure is it to see the monuments of Livy, the 
choicest of the historians ; of Tully, the best of 
orators ; and to see the bay-trees that now grow 
out of the very tomb of Virgil ! These, to any that 
love learning, must be pleasing. But what pleasure 
is it to a devout Christian to see there the humble 
house in which Saint Paul was content to dwell, 
and to view the many rich statues that are made in 
honor of his memory ; nay, to see the very place 
in which Saint Peter and he lie buried together ! 
These are in and near Rome. And how much 
more doth it please the pious curiosity of a Chris- 
tian to see that place on which the blessed Saviour 
of the world was pleased to humble himself, and to 
take our nature upon him, and to converse with 
men ; and to see Mount Sion, Jerusalem, and the 
very sepulchre of our Lord Jesus ! How may it 
beget and heighten the zeal of a Christian to see 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 55 

the devotions that are daily paid to Him at that 
place ! Gentlemen, lest I forget myself, I will stop 
here, and remember you that but for my element 
of water the inhabitants of this poor island must 
remain ignorant that such things ever were, or that 
any of them have yet a being. 

Gentlemen, I might both enlarge and lose my- 
self in such like arguments. I might tell you that 
Almighty God is said to have spoken to a fish, but 
never to a beast ; that he hath made a whale a ship 
to carry and set his prophet Jonah safe on the 
appointed shore. Of these I might speak, but I 
must in manners break off, for I see Theobald's 
House. I cry you mercy for being so long, and 
thank you for your patience. 

Auc. Sir, my pardon is easily granted you. I 
except against nothing that you have said ; never- 
theless, I must part with you at this park-wall, for 
which I am very sorry; but I assure you, Mr. 
Piscator, I now part with you full of good thoughts, 
not only of yourself, but of your recreation. And 
so, gentlemen, God keep you both. 

Pise. Well, now, Mr. Venator, you shall neither 
want time nor my attention to hear you enlarge 
your discourse concerning hunting. 

Ven. Not I, sir. I remember you said that an- 
gling itself was of great antiquity, and a perfect 
art, and an art not easily attained to ; and you have 
so won upon me in your former discourse, that I 
am very desirous to hear what you can say further 
concerning those particulars. 



56 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Pise. Sir, I did say so, and I doubt not but if 
you and I did converse together but a few hours, 
to leave you possessed with the same high and 
happy thoughts that now possess me of it, — not 
only of the antiquity of angling, but that it de- 
serves commendations ; and that it is an art, and 
an art worthy the knowledge and practice of a 
wise man. 

Ven. Pray, sir, speak of them what you think 
fit, for we have yet five miles to the Thatched 
House, during which walk I dare promise you my 
patience and diligent attention shall not be want- 
ing. And if you shall make that to appear which 
you have undertaken, — first, that it is an art, and 
an art worth the learning, — I shall beg that I may 
attend you a day or two a-fishing, and that I may 
become your scholar and be instructed in the art 
itself which you so much magnify. 

Pise. Oh, sir, doubt not but that angling is an 
art. Is it not an art to deceive a trout with an arti- 
ficial fly? — a trout that is more sharp-sighted than 
any hawk you have named, and more watchful and 
timorous than your high-mettled merlin is bold? 1 
and yet I doubt not to catch a brace or two to- 
morrow, for a friend's breakfast. Doubt not, there- 
fore, sir, but that angling is an art, and an art 
worth your learning. The question is, rather, 
whether you be capable of learning it ? for angling 

1 This is a mistake : it was Auceps, and not Venator, that 
named the hawks ; and Auceps had before taken his leave of 
these his companions. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 57 

is somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so, — 
I mean with inclinations to it, though both may be 
heightened by discourse and practice ; but he that 
hopes to be a good angler must not only bring an 
inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must 
bring a large measure of hope and patience, and a 
love and propensity to the art itself; but having 
once got and practised it, then doubt not but an- 
gling will prove to be so pleasant that it will prove 
to be, like virtue, a reward to itself. 

Ven. Sir, I am now become so full of expecta- 
tion that I long much to have you proceed, and 
in the order that you propose. 

Pise. Then, first, for the antiquity of angling, of 
which I shall not say much, but only this : some 
say it is as ancient as Deucalion's flood ; others, 
that Belus, who was the first inventor of godly and 
virtuous recreations, was the first inventor of an- 
gling ; and some others say, for former times have 
had their disquisitions about the antiquity of it, 
that Seth, one of the sons of Adam, taught it to 
his sons, and that by them it was derived to pos- 
terity ; others say that he left it engraven on those 
pillars which he erected, and trusted to preserve 
the knowledge of the mathematics, music, and the 
rest of that precious knowledge and those useful 
arts, which by God's appointment or allowance 
and his noble industry were thereby preserved 
from perishing in Noah's flood. 

These, sir, have been the opinions of several 
men, that have possibly endeavored to make an- 



58 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

gling more ancient than is needful or may well be 
warranted ; but for my part, I shall content myself 
in telling you that angling is much more ancient 
than the incarnation of our Saviour ; for in the 
prophet Amos mention is made of fish-hooks ; 
and in the book of Job, which was long before the 
days of Amos, for that book is said to be writ by 
Moses, mention is made also of fish-hooks, which 
must imply anglers in those times. 

But, my worthy friend, as I would rather prove 
myself a gentleman by being learned and humble, 
valiant and inoffensive, virtuous and communi- 
cable, than by any fond ostentation of riches, or, 
wanting those virtues myself, boast that these were 
in my ancestors, — and yet I grant that where a 
noble and ancient descent and such merit meet in 
any man, it is a double dignification of that per- 
son, — so if this antiquity of angling, which for my 
part I have not forced, shall, like an ancient family, 
be either an honor or an ornament to this virtuous 
art which I profess to love and practise, I shall be 
the gladder that I made an accidental mention of 
the antiquity of it ; of which I shall say no more, 
but proceed to that just commendation which I 
think it deserves. 

And for that I shall tell you that in ancient 
times a debate hath risen, and it remains yet un- 
resolved, whether the happiness of man in this 
world doth consist more in contemplation or 
action. 

Concerning which some have endeavored to 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 59 

maintain their opinion of the first, by saying that 
the nearer we mortals come to God by way of 
imitation, the more happy we are. And they say 
that God enjoys himself only by a contemplation 
of his own infiniteness, eternity, power, and good- 
ness, and the like. And upon this ground, many 
cloisteral men of great learning and devotion pre- 
fer contemplation before action. And many of 
the fathers seem to approve this opinion, as may 
appear in their commentaries upon the words of 
our Saviour to Martha (Luke x. 41, 42). 

And, on the contrary, there want not men of 
equal authority and credit, that prefer action to be 
the more excellent, — as namely experiments in 
physic, and the application of it, both for the ease 
and prolongation of man's life, — by which each 
man is enabled to act and do good to others, 
either to serve his country, or do good to particu- 
lar persons ; and they say, also, that action is doc- 
trinal, and teaches both art and virtue, and is a main- 
tainer of human society ; and for these, and other 
like reasons, to be preferred before contemplation. 

Concerning which two opinions I shall forbear 
to add a third by declaring my own ; and rest 
myself contented in telling you, my very worthy 
friend, that both these meet together, and do most 
properly belong to the most honest, ingenuous, 
quiet, and harmless art of angling. 

And first, I shall tell you what some have ob- 
served, and I have found to be a real truth, that 
the very sitting by the river's side is not only the 



60 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

quietest and fittest place for contemplation, but 
will invite an angler to it ; and this seems to be 
maintained by the learned Peter du Moulin, who 
in his discourse of the fulfilling of prophecies ob- 
serves that when God intended to reveal any 
future events or high notions to his prophets, he 
then carried them either to the deserts or the sea- 
shore, that having so separated them from amidst 
the press of people and business, and the cares of 
the world, he might settle their mind in a quiet 
repose, and there make them fit for revelation. 

And this seems also to be intimated by the 
children of Israel (Ps. 137), who having in a sad 
condition banished all mirth and music from their 
pensive hearts, and having hung up their mute 
harps upon the willow-trees growing by the rivers 
of Babylon, sat down upon those banks, bemoan- 
ing the ruins of Sion, and contemplating their own 
sad condition. 

And an ingenious Spaniard says that "rivers 
and the inhabitants of the watery element were 
made for wise men to contemplate, and fools to 
pass by without consideration." And though I 
will not rank myself in the number of the first, yet 
give me leave to free myself from the last, by offer- 
ing to you a short contemplation, first of rivers, 
and then of fish ; concerning which I doubt not 
but to give you many observations that will appear 
very considerable : I am sure they have appeared 
so to me, and made many an hour pass away more 
pleasantly, as I have sat quietly on a flowery bank 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 6 1 

by a calm river, and contemplated what I shall 
now relate to you. 

And first concerning rivers : there be so many 
wonders reported and written of them, and of the 
several creatures that be bred and live in them, and 
those by authors of so good credit, that we need 
not to deny them an historical faith. 

As namely of a river in Epirus, that puts out any 
lighted torch, and kindles any torch that was not 
lighted. 1 Some waters, being drunk, cause mad- 
ness, some drunkenness, and some laughter to death. 
The river Selarus in a few hours turns a rod or 
wand to stone ; and our Camden mentions the like 
in England, and the like in Lochmere in Ireland. 
There is also a river in Arabia, of which all the 
sheep that drink thereof have their wool turned 
into a vermilion color. 2 And one of no less credit 
than Aristotle tells us of a merry river, the river 
Elusina, that dances at the noise of music ; for with 
music it bubbles, dances, and grows sandy, and so 
continues till the music ceases, but then it pres- 
ently returns to its wonted calmness and clearness. 
And Camden tells us of a well near to Kirby in West- 
moreland, that ebbs and flows several times every 
day ; and he tells us of a river in Surrey, it is called 
Mole, that after it has run several miles, being op- 
posed by hills, finds or makes itself a way under 

1 From evolving sulphuretted hydrogen gas. 

2 The river referred to was probably the Adonis, running out 
of Mount Libanus, which turns red, from the red soil of the moun- 
tain at the time of freshets. 



62 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

ground, and breaks out again so far off that the in- 
habitants thereabout boast, as the Spaniards do of 
their river Anus, that they feed divers flocks of 
sheep upon a bridge. And, lastly, for I would not 
tire your patience, one of no less authority than 
Josephus, that learned Jew, tells us of a river in 
Judea that runs swiftly all the six days of the week, 
and stands still and rests all their sabbath. 

But I will lay aside my discourse of rivers, and 
tell you some things of the monsters or fish, call 
them what you will, that they breed and feed in 
them. Pliny the philosopher says, in the third 
chapter of his ninth book, that in the Indian sea 
the fish called balsena, or whirlpool, is so long and 
broad as to take up more in length and breadth 
than two acres of ground ; and of other fish of two 
hundred cubits long ; and that in the river Ganges 
there be eels of thirty feet long. He says there that 
these monsters appear in that sea only when the tem- 
pestuous winds oppose the torrents of waters falling 
from the rocks into it, and so turning what lay at 
the bottom to be seen on the water's top. And he 
says that the people of Cadara, an island near this 
place, make the timber for their houses of those 
fish-bones. He there tells us that there are some- 
times a thousand of these great eels found wrapt 
or interwoven together. He tells us there that it 
appears that dolphins love music, and will come, 
when called for, by some men or boys that know 
and use to feed them, and that they can swim as 
swift as an arrow can be shot out of a bow ; and 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 63 

much of this is spoken concerning the dolphin, and 
other fish, as may be found also in the learned 
Dr. Casaubon's " Discourse of Credulity and In- 
credulity," printed by him about the year 1670. 

I know we islanders are averse to the belief of 
these wonders ; but there be so many strange crea- 
tures to be now seen — many collected by John 
Tradescant, 1 and others added by my friend Elias 
Ashmole, Esq., who now keeps them carefully and 
methodically at his house near to Lambeth, near 
London — as may get some belief of some of the 
other wonders I mentioned. I will tell you some 
of the wonders that you may now see, and not till 
then believe, unless you think fit. 

You may there see the hog-fish, the dog-fish, the 
dolphin, the coney-fish, the parrot-fish, the shark, the 
poison-fish, sword-fish ; and not only other incredible 
fish, but you may there see the salamander, several 
sorts of barnacles, of Solan geese, the bird of Para- 
dise, such sorts of snakes, and such bird's-nests, and 
of so various forms and so wonderfully made, as may 
beget wonder and amusement in any beholder ; and 
so many hundred of other rarities in that collection 
as will make the other wonders I spake of the less 
incredible ; for you may note that the waters are 
Nature's storehouse in which she locks up her 
wonders. 

But, sir, lest this discourse may seem tedious, I 
shall give it a sweet conclusion out of that holy 

1 Gardener to Charles I., and a great collector of the curious. 



64 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

poet, Mr. George Herbert, his divine " Contempla- 
tion on God's Providence " : — 

" Lord ! who hath praise enough ? Nay, who hath any ? 
None can express thy works but he that knows them ; 
And none can know thy works, they are so many 
And so complete, but only he that owes 1 them. 

" We all acknowledge both thy power and love 
To be exact, transcendent, and divine, 
Who dost so strangely and so sweetly move, 
Whilst all things have their end, yet none but thine. 

" Wherefore, most sacred Spirit, I here present, 
For me and all my fellows, praise to thee ; 
And just it is that I should pay the rent, 
Because the benefit accrues to me." 

And as concerning fish in that Psalm (Ps. civ.), 
wherein for height of poetry and wonders the 
prophet David seems even to exceed himself, how 
doth he there express himself in choice metaphors, 
even to the amazement of a contemplative reader, 
concerning the sea, the rivers, and the fish therein 
contained ! And the great naturalist, Pliny, says 
'* that Nature's great and wonderful power is more 
demonstrated in the sea than on the land." And 
this may appear by the numerous and various 
creatures inhabiting both in and about that ele- 
ment; as to the readers of Gesner, Rondeletius, 
Pliny, Ausonius, Aristotle, and others, may be de- 
monstrated. But I will sweeten this discourse also 
out of a contemplation in divine Du Bartas, who 
says : — 

l Owns. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 65 

" God quickened in the sea and in the rivers 
So many fishes of so many features, 
That in the waters we may see all creatures, 
Even all that on the earth are to be found, 
As if the world were in deep waters drowned. 
For seas, as well as skies, have sun, moon, stars ; 
As well as air — swallows, rooks, and stares ; l 
As well as earth — vines, roses, nettles, melons, 
Mushrooms, pinks, gilliflowers, and many millions 
Of other plants, more rare, more strange than these, 
As very fishes living in the seas : 
As also rams, calves, horses, hares, and hogs, 
Wolves, urchins, lions, elephants, and dogs ; 
Yea, men and maids ; and, which I most admire, 
The mitred bishop and the cowled friar, 
Of which examples, but a few years since, 
Were shown the Norway and Polonian prince." 

These seem to be wonders, but have had so 
many confirmations from men of learning and 
credit that you need not doubt them. Nor are 
the number nor the various shapes of fishes more 
strange or more fit for contemplation than their dif- 
ferent natures, inclinations, and actions ; concerning 
which I shall beg your patient ear a little longer. 

The cuttle-fish will cast a long gut out of her 
throat, which, like as an angler doth his line, she 
sendeth forth and pulleth in again at her pleasure, 
according as she sees some little fish come near to 
her; and the cuttle-fish, being then hid in the 
gravel, lets the smaller fish nibble and bite the end 
of it ; at which time she, by little and little, draws 
the smaller fish so near to her that she may leap 

1 Starlings. 

5 



66 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

upon her, and then catches and devours her : and 
for this reason some have called this fish the sea- 
angler. 

And there is a fish called a hermit, that at a 
certain age gets into a dead fish's shell, and like a 
hermit dwells there alone, studying the wind and 
weather, and so turns her shell that she makes it 
defend her from the injuries that they would bring 
upon her. 

There is also a fish, called by ^Elian in his ninth 
book " Of Living Creatures," c. 16, the Adonis, or 
darling of the sea ; so called because it is a loving 
and innocent fish, — a fish that hurts nothing that 
hath life, and is at peace with all the numerous in- 
habitants of that vast watery element ; and truly I 
think most anglers are so disposed to most of 
mankind. 

And there are, also, lustful and chaste fishes, of 
which I shall give you examples. 

And first, what Du Bartas says of a fish called 
the sargus, — which because none can express it 
better than he does, I shall give you in his own 
words ; supposing it shall not have the less credit 
for being verse, for he hath gathered this and other 
observations out of authors that have been great 
and industrious searchers into the secrets of nature. 

"The adult'rous sargus doth not only change 
Wives every day, in the deep streams, but, strange ! 
As if the honey of sea-love delight 
Could not suffice his ranging appetite, 
Goes courting she-goats on the grassy shore, 
Horning their husbands that had horns before." 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 6? 

And the same author writes, concerning the 
cantharus, that which you shall also hear in his 
own words : — 

" But, contrary, the constant cantharus 
Is ever constant to his faithful spouse ; 
In nuptial duties, spending his chaste life ; 
Never loves any but his own dear wife." 

Sir, but a little longer, and I have done. 

Ven. Sir, take what liberty you think fit, for 
your discourse seems to be music, and charms me 
to an attention. 

Pise. Why then, sir, I will take a liberty to tell, 
or rather to remember you what is said of turtle- 
doves, — first, that they silently plight their troth 
and marry ; and that then the survivor scorns, as 
the Thracian women are said to do, to outlive his 
or her mate, and this is taken for a truth ; and if 
the survivor shall ever couple with another, then 
not only the living but the dead, be it either the 
he or the she, is denied the name and honor of a 
true turtle-dove. 

And to parallel this land-rarity, and to teach 
mankind moral faithfulness, and to condemn those 
that talk of religion and yet come short of the 
moral faith of fish and fowl, — men that violate the 
law affirmed by Saint Paul (Rom. ii. 14, 15, 16) to 
be writ in their hearts, and which he says shall at the 
last day condemn and leave them without excuse, 
— I pray hearken to what Du Bartas sings, for the 
hearing of such conjugal faithfulness will be music 



68 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

to all chaste ears, and therefore I pray hearken to 
what Du Bartas sings of the mullet : 

" But for chaste love the mullet hath no peer ; 
For if the fisher hath surprised her pheer, 1 
As mad with woe, to shore she followeth, 
Prest 2 to consort him, both in life and death." 

On the contrary, what shall I say of the house- 
cock, which treads any hen, and then, contrary to 
the swan, the partridge, and pigeon, takes no care 
to hatch, to feed, or cherish his own brood, but is 
senseless, though they perish ? And 't is consider- 
able that the hen, which, because she also takes 
any cock, expects it not, who is sure the chick- 
ens be her own, hath by a moral impression her 
care and affection to her own brood more than 
doubled, even to such a height that our Saviour, 
in expressing his love to Jerusalem (Matt, xxiii. 
37), quotes her for an example of tender affection ; 
as his father had done Job for a pattern of 
patience. 

And to parallel this cock, there be divers fishes 
that cast their spawn on flags or stones, and then 
leave it uncovered, and exposed to become a prey 
and be devoured by vermin, or other fishes. But 
other fishes, as namely the barbel, take such care 
for the preservation of their seed, that, unlike to 
the cock or the cuckoo, they mutually labor, both 
the spawner and the melter, to cover their spawn 

1 Fellow or mate. 

2 Prepared, ready ; Fr. Pret. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 69 

with sand, or watch it, or hide it in some secret 
place unfrequented by vermin or by any fish but 
themselves. 

Sir, these examples may, to you and others, 
seem strange j but they are testified, some by 
Aristotle, some by Pliny, some by Gessner, and 
by many others of credit, and are believed and 
known by divers, both of wisdom and experience, 
to be a truth ; and indeed are, as I said at the be- 
ginning, fit for the contemplation of a most serious 
and a most pious man. And, doubtless, this made 
the prophet David say, "They that occupy them- 
selves in deep waters see the wonderful works of 
God ; " indeed, such wonders and pleasures too 
as the land affords not. 

And that they be fit for the contemplation of 
the most prudent and pious and peaceable men, 
seems to be testified by the practice of so many 
devout and contemplative men as the patriarchs 
and prophets of old, and of the apostles of our 
Saviour in our latter times ; of which twelve, we 
are sure, he chose four that were simple fisher- 
men, whom he inspired, and sent to publish his 
blessed will to the Gentiles, and inspired them 
also with a power to speak all languages, and by 
their powerful eloquence to beget faith in the un- 
believing Jews, and themselves to suffer for that 
Saviour whom their forefathers and they had cru- 
cified ; and, in their sufferings, to preach freedom 
from the incumbrances of the law, and a new way 
to everlasting life : this was the employment of 



70 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

these happy fishermen, concerning which choice 
some have made these observations : — 

First, that he never reproved these for their em- 
ployment or calling, as he did the scribes and the 
money-changers. And secondly, he found that 
the hearts of such men by nature were fitted for 
contemplation and quietness, — men of mild and 
sweet and peaceable spirits, as indeed most an- 
glers are ; yet these men our blessed Saviour, who 
is observed to love to plant grace in good natures, 
though indeed nothing be too hard for him, — yet 
these men he chose to call from their irreprovable 
employment of fishing, and gave them grace to be 
his disciples, and to follow him, and do wonders j 
I say four of twelve. 

And it is observable that it was our Saviour's 
will that these our four fishermen should have a 
priority of nomination in the catalogue of his twelve 
apostles (Matt, x.), as namely, first, Saint Peter, 
Saint Andrew, Saint James, and Saint John, and 
then the rest in their order. 

And it is yet more observable that when our 
blessed Saviour went up into the mount, when he 
left the rest of his disciples, and chose only three to 
bear him company at his transfiguration, that those 
three were all fishermen. And it is to be believed 
that all the other apostles, after they betook them- 
selves to follow Christ, betook themselves to be 
fishermen too ; for it is certain that the greater 
number of them were found together, fishing, by 
Jesus after his resurrection, as it is recorded in the 
twenty-first chapter of Saint John's Gospel. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. J\ 

And since I have your promise to hear me with 
patience, I will take a liberty to look back upon 
an observation that hath been made by an in- 
genious and learned man ; who observes that God 
hath been pleased to allow those whom he him- 
self hath appointed, to write his holy will in holy 
writ, yet to express his will in such metaphors as 
their former affections or practice had inclined 
them to. And he brings Solomon for an example, 
who before his conversion was remarkably car- 
nally amorous, and after, by God's appointment, 
wrote that spiritual dialogue, or holy amorous love- 
song, the Canticles, betwixt God and his Church ; 
in which he says, " his beloved had eyes like the 
fish-pools of Heshbon." 

And if this hold in reason, as I see none to the 
contrary, then it may be probably concluded that 
Moses who, I told you before, writ the Book of 
Job, and the prophet Amos, who was a shepherd, 
were both anglers ; for you shall in all the Old 
Testament find fish-hooks, I think, but twice men- 
tioned ; namely, by meek Moses the friend of God, 
and by the humble prophet Amos. 

Concerning which last, namely, the prophet 
Amos, I shall make but this observation, — that 
he that shall read the humble, lowly, plain style of 
that prophet, and compare it with the high, 
glorious, eloquent style of the prophet Isaiah, 
though they be both equally true, may easily be- 
lieve Amos to be, not only a shepherd, but a good- 
natured plain fisherman. Which I do the rather 



72 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

believe, by comparing the affectionate, loving, 
lowly, humble Epistles of Saint Peter, Saint James, 
and Saint John, whom we know were all fishers, 
with the glorious language and high metaphors of 
Saint Paul, who we may believe was not. 

And for the lawfulness of fishing, it may very 
well be maintained by our Saviour's bidding Saint 
Peter cast his hook into the water, and catch a 
fish, for money to pay tribute to Caesar. And let 
me tell you that angling is of high esteem, and of 
much use in other nations. He that reads the 
voyages of Ferdinand Mendez Pinto shall find that 
there he declares to have found a king and several 
priests a-fishing. 

And he that reads Plutarch shall find that an- 
gling was not contemptible in the days of Mark 
Antony and Cleopatra, and that they in the midst 
of their wonderful glory used angling as a princi- 
pal recreation. And let me tell you that in the 
Scripture angling is always taken in the best 
sense j and that though hunting may be some- 
times so taken, yet it is but seldom to be so under- 
stood. And let me add this more : he that views 
the ancient Ecclesiastical Canons shall find hunt- 
ing to be forbidden to churchmen, as being a tur- 
bulent, toilsome, perplexing recreation ; and shall 
find angling allowed to clergymen, as being a 
harmless recreation, a recreation that invites them 
to contemplation and quietness. 

I might here enlarge myself, by telling you what 
commendations our learned Perkins bestows on 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 73 

angling ; and how dear a lover and great a prac- 
tiser of it our learned Dr. Whitaker was, as in- 
deed many others of great learning have been. 
But I will content myself with two memorable 
men that lived near to our own time, whom I also 
take to have been ornaments to the art of angling. 
The first is Dr. Nowel, sometime dean of the 
cathedral church of St, Paul's, in London, where 
his monument stands yet undefaced ; a man that, 
in the reformation of Queen Elizabeth (1550), not 
that of Henry VIII., was so noted for his meek 
spirit, deep learning, prudence, and piety, that the 
then parliament and convocation both chose, en- 
joined, and trusted him to be the man to make a 
catechism for public use, such a one as should 
stand as a rule for faith and manners to their pos- 
terity. And the good old man, though he was 
very learned, yet knowing that God leads us not 
to heaven by many nor by hard questions, like an 
honest angler, made that good, plain, unperplexed 
catechism, which is printed with our good old 
Service-book. I say, this good man was a dear 
lover and constant practiser of angling, as any age 
can produce. And his custom was to spend, be- 
sides his fixed hours of prayer, those hours which 
by command of the Church were enjoined the 
clergy, and voluntarily dedicated to devotion by 
many primitive Christians ; I say, besides those 
hours this good man was observed to spend a tenth 
part of his time in angling ; and also, for I have con- 
versed with those who have conversed with him, 



74 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

to bestowing a tenth part of his revenue, and 
usually all his fish, amongst the poor that inhabited 
near to those rivers in which it was caught ; say- 
ing often, lt that charity gave life to religion ; " 
and at his return to his house would praise God he 
had spent that day free from worldly trouble, — 
both harmlessly, and in a recreation that became a 
churchman. And this good man was well con- 
tent, if not desirous, that posterity should know 
he was an angler ; as may appear by his picture, 
now to be seen and carefully kept in Brazennose 
College, to which he was a liberal benefactor. In 
which picture he is drawn leaning on a desk with 
his Bible before him, and on one hand of him his 
lines, hooks, and other tackling, lying in a round ; 
and on his other hand are his angle -rods of several 
sorts ; and by them this is written, " that he died 13 
Feb., 1601, being aged ninety-five years, forty-four 
of which he had been dean of St. Paul's church ; 
and that his age neither impaired his hearing, nor 
dimmed his eyes, nor weakened his memory, nor 
made any of the faculties of his mind weak or use- 
less." 'T is said that angling and temperance 
were great causes of these blessings ; and I wish 
the like to all that imitate him, and love the mem- 
ory of so good a man. 

My next and last example shall be that under- 
valuer of money, the late Provost of Eton College, 
Sir Henry Wotton : a man with whom I have 
often fished and conversed, a man whose foreign 
employments in the service of this nation, and 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 75 

whose experience, learning, wit, and cheerfulness 
made his company to be esteemed one of the de- 
lights of mankind. This man, whose very appro- 
bation of angling were sufficient to convince any 
modest censurer of it, — this man was also a most 
dear lover and a frequent practiser of the art of 
angling ; of which he would say, " 'T was an em- 
ployment for his idle time, which was not then 
idly spent ; " for angling was, after tedious study, 
" a rest to his mind, a cheerer of his spirits, a 
diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, 
a moderator of passions, a procurer of contented- 
ness ; " and " that it begat habits of peace and 
patience in those that professed and practised it." 
Indeed, my friend, you will find angling to be like 
the virtue of humility, which has a calmness of 
spirit, and a world of other blessings attending 
upon it. 

Sir, this was the saying of that learned man, and 
I do easily believe that peace and patience and a 
calm content did cohabit in the cheerful heart of 
Sir Henry Wotton, because I know that when he 
was beyond seventy years of age, he made this 
description of a part of the present pleasure that 
possessed him, as he sat quietly in a summer's 
evening on a bank a-fishing. It is a description 
of the spring, which because it glided as soft and 
sweetly from his pen as that river does at this time, 
by which it was then made, I shall repeat it unto 
you : — 



j6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

" This day Dame Nature seemed in love : 
The lusty sap began to move ; 
Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines, 
And birds had drawn their valentines. 
The jealous trout that low did lie, 
Rose at a well-dissembled fly ; 
There stood my friend, with patient skill, 
Attending of his trembling quill. 
Already were the eaves possest 
With the swift Pilgrim's x daubed nest : 
The groves already did rejoice 
In Philomel's triumphing voice ; 
The showers were short, the weather mild, 
The morning fresh, the evening smiled. 

Joan takes her neat-rubbed pail, and now 
She trips to milk the sand-red cow, — 
Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain, 
Joan strokes a syllabub or twain. 
The fields and gardens were beset 
With tulips, crocus, violet ; 
And now, though late, the modest rose 
Did more than half a blush disclose. 
Thus all looks gay, and full of cheer, 
To welcome the new liveried year." 

These were the thoughts that then possessed 
the undisturbed mind of Sir Henry Wotton. Will 
you hear the wish of another angler, and the com- 
mendation of his happy life, which he also sings 
in verse? viz. Jo. Davors, Esq. : — 

" Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink 
Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place ; 
Where I may see my quill or cork down sink 
With eager bite of perch, or bleak, or dace ; 

1 The swallow. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. J J 

And on the world and my Creator think : 

Whilst some men strive ill-gotten goods t' embrace, 
And others spend their time in base excess 
Of wine, or, worse, in war and wantonness. 



" Let them that list, these pastimes still pursue, 
And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill, 

So I the fields and meadows green may view, 
And daily by fresh rivers walk at will, 

Among the daisies and the violets blue, 
Red hyacinth, and yellow daffodil, 

Purple narcissus like the morning rays, 

Pale gander-grass, and azure culver-keyes. 

' I count it higher pleasure to behold 

The stately compass of the lofty sky, 
And in the midst thereof, like burning gold, 

The flaming chariot of the world's great eye ; 
The watery clouds, that in the air up-rolled 

With sundry kinds of painted colors fly; 
And fair Aurora, lifting up her head, 
Still blushing, rise from old Tithonus' bed; 

The hills and mountains raised from the plains, 
The plains extended, level with the ground, 

The grounds, divided into sundry veins, 

The veins, enclosed with rivers running round : 

These rivers making way through Nature's chains 
With headlong course into the sea profound ; 

The raging sea, beneath the valleys low, 

Where lakes and rills and rivulets do flow; 

The lofty woods, the forests wide and long, 

Adorned with leaves, and branches fresh and green, 

In whose cool bowers the birds with many a song 
Do welcome with their quire the summer's Queen ; 



yS THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

The meadows fair, where Flora's gifts among 

Are intermixed with verdant grass between ; 
The silver-scaled fish that softly swim 
Within the sweet brook's crystal watery stream. 

"All these, and many more of His creation 

That made the heavens, the Angler oft doth see 
Taking therein no little delectation, 

To think how strange, how wonderful, they be ! 
Framing thereof an inward contemplation, 

To set his heart from other fancies free ; 
And whilst he looks on these with joyful eye, 

His mind is rapt above the starry sky." 

Sir, I am glad my memory has not lost these 
last verses, because they are somewhat more pleas- 
ant and more suitable to May- day than my harsh 
discourse. And I am glad your patience hath 
held out so long as to hear them and me, for both 
together have brought us within the sight of the 
Thatched House ; and I must be your debtor, if 
you think it worth your attention, for the rest of 
my promised discourse, till some other opportun- 
ity and a like time of leisure. 

Ven. Sir, you have angled me on with much 
pleasure to the Thatched House ; and I now find 
your words true, that " good company makes the 
way seem short : " for trust me, sir, I thought we 
had wanted three miles of this house till you 
showed it to me. But now we are at it, we '11 turn 
into it, and refresh ourselves with a cup of drink 
and a little rest. 

Pise. Most gladly, sir ; and we '11 drink a civil 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 79 

cup to all the otter-hunters that are to meet you 
to-morrow. 

Ven. That we will, sir, and to all the lovers of 
angling too, of which number I am now willing to be 
one myself; for by the help of your good discourse 
and company, I have put on new thoughts both of 
the art of angling and of all that profess it ; and 
if you will but meet me to-morrow at the time and 
place appointed, and bestow one day with me and 
my friends in hunting the otter, I will dedicate the 
next two days to wait upon you ; and we two will 
for that time do nothing but angle, and talk of fish 
and fishing. 

Pise. It is a match, sir ; I will not fail you, God 
willing, to be at Amwell Hill to-morrow morning 
before sunrising. 



&)t Recent) 2r>a£* 

CHAPTER II. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE OTTER AND CHUB. 

TfENATOR. My friend Piscator, you have 
kept time with my thoughts ; for the sun is 
just rising, and I myself just now come to this 
place, and the dogs have just now put down an 
otter. Look down at the bottom of the hill 
there, in that meadow, checkered with water-lilies 
and lady-smocks ; there you may see what work 
they make. Look ! look ! you may see all busy, 
— men and dogs, dogs and men, all busy. 

Pise. Sir, I am right glad to meet you, and 
glad to have so fair an entrance into this day's 
sport, and glad to see so many dogs and more 
men all in pursuit of the otter. Let us compli- 
ment no longer, but join unto them. Come, 
honest Venator, let us be gone, let us make haste. 
I long to be doing ; no reasonable hedge or ditch 
shall hold me. 

Ven. Gentleman huntsman, where found you 
this otter? 

Hunt. Marry, sir, we found her a mile from 
this place a-fishing : she has this morning eaten 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 8 1 

the greatest part of this trout ; she has only left 
thus much of it as you see, and was fishing for 
more. When we came, we found her just at it : 
but we were here very early, we were here an hour 
before sunrise, and have given her no rest since 
we came ; sure she will hardly escape all these 
dogs and men. I am to have the skin if we kill 
her. 

Ven. Why, sir, what is the skin worth? 

Hu?it. It is worth ten shillings to make gloves ; 
the gloves of an otter are the best fortification for 
your hands that can be thought on against wet 
weather. 

Pise. I pray, honest huntsman, let me ask you 
a pleasant question : do you hunt a beast or a 
fish? 

Hunt. Sir, it is not in my power to resolve you. 
I leave it to be resolved by the College of Carthu- 
sians, who have made vows never to eat flesh. 
But I have heard the question hath been debated 
among many great clerks, and they seem to differ 
about it ; yet most agree that her tail is fish. And 
if her body be fish too, then I may say that a fish 
will walk upon land ; for an otter does so some- 
times five or six or ten miles in a night, to catch 
for her young ones, or to glut herself with fish. 
And I can tell you that pigeons will fly forty miles 
for a breakfast. But, sir, I am sure the otter de- 
vours much fish, and kills and spoils much more 
than he eats ; and I can tell you that this dog- 
fisher, for so the Latins call him, can smell a fish 
6 



82 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

in the water an hundred yards from him : Gesner 
says much further, and that his stones are good 
against the falling sickness ; and that there is an 
herb, benione, which, being hung in a linen-cloth 
near a fish-pond, or any haunt that he uses, makes 
him to avoid the place ; which proves he smells 
both by water and land. And I can tell you there 
is brave hunting this water-dog in Cornwall ; where 
there have been so many that our learned Cam- 
den says there is a river called Ottersey, which 
was so named by reason of the abundance of otters 
that bred and fed in it. 

And thus much for my knowledge of the otter, 
which you may now see above water at vent, 
and the dogs close with him ; I now see he will 
not last long : follow, therefore, my masters, fol- 
low, for Sweetlips was like to have him at this last 
vent. 

Ven. Oh me, all the horse are got over the 
river. What shall we do now? Shall we follow 
them over the water? 

Hunt. No, sir, no, be not so eager ; stay a lit- 
tle, and follow me, for both they and the dogs will 
be suddenly on this side again, I warrant you ; and 
the otter too, it may be. Now have at him with 
Killbuck, for he vents 1 again. 

Ven. Marry ! so he does ; for, look ! he vents 
in that corner. Now, now Ringwood has him ; 
now he is gone again, and has bit the poor dog. 

l Comes to the surface to breathe. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 83 

Now Sweetlips has her ; hold her, Sweetlips ! now 
all the dogs have her, some above and some 
under water ; but, now, now, she is tired, and 
past losing. Come bring her to me, Sweetlips. 
Look ! it is a bitch-otter, and she has lately 
whelped. Let 's go to the place where she was 
put down ; and not far from it you will find all 
her young ones, I dare warrant you, and kill 
them all too. 

Hunt. Come, gentlemen ! come all ; let 's go 
to the place where we put down the otter. 
Look you ! hereabout it was that she kennelled ; 
look you ! here it was indeed ; for here are her 
young ones, no less than five. Come, let us kill 
them all. 

Pise. No, I pray, sir, save me one ; and I '11 
try if I can make her tame, as I know an in- 
genious gentleman in Leicestershire, Mr. Nich. 
Seagrave, has done ; who hath not only made her 
tame, but to catch fish, and do many other things 
of much pleasure. 

Hunt. Take one, with all my heart \ but let us 
kill the rest. And now let 's go to an honest ale- 
house, where we may have a cup of good barley 
wine, and sing " Old Rose," and all of us rejoice 
together. 

Ven. Come, my friend Piscator, let me invite 
you along with us. I'll bear your charges this 
night, and you shall bear mine to-morrow, — for 
my intention is to accompany you a day or two in 
fishing. 



84 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Pise. Sir, your request is granted, and I shall be 
right glad, both to exchange such a courtesy, and 
also to enjoy your company. 

Ven. Well, now let 's go to your sport of an- 
gling. 

Pise. Let 's be going with all my heart. God 
keep you all, gentlemen, and send you meet this 
day with another bitch-otter, and kill her merrily, 
and all her young ones too. 

Ven. Now, Piscator, where will you begin to 
fish? 

Pise. We are not yet come to a likely place ; I 
must walk a mile further yet before I begin. 

Ven. Well, then, I pray, as we walk, tell me 
freely how do you like your lodging, and mine host 
and the company ! Is not mine host a witty 
man? 

Pise. Sir, I will tell you presently what I think 
of your host ; but first I will tell you, I am glad 
these otters were killed, and I am sorry there are 
no more otter-killers ; for I know that the want of 
otter-killers, and the not keeping the fence-months 
for the preservation of fish, will in time prove the 
destruction of all rivers. And those very few that 
are left, that make conscience of the laws of the 
nation, and of keeping days of abstinence, will be 
forced to eat flesh, or suffer more inconveniences 
than are yet foreseen. 

Ven. Why, sir, what be those that you call the 
fence-months ? 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 85 

Pise. Sir, they be principally three, namely, 
March, April, and May ; for these be the usual 
months that salmon come out of the sea to spawn 
in most fresh rivers, and their fry would about a 
certain time return back to the salt-water, if they 
were not hindered by wires and unlawful gins, 
which the greedy fishermen set, and so destroy 
them by thousands ; as they would, being so taught 
by nature, change the fresh for salt water. He 
that shall view the wise statutes made in the 13th 
of Edward L, and the like in Richard II., may 
see several provisions made against the destruction 
of fish ; and though I profess no knowledge of the 
law, yet I am sure the regulation of these defects 
might be easily mended. But I remember that a 
wise friend of mine did usually say, " That which 
is everybody's business is nobody's business ; " if it 
were otherwise, there could not be so many nets 
and fish that are under the statute-size sold daily 
amongst us, and of which the conservators of the 
water should be ashamed. 

But, above all, the taking fish in spawning-time 
may be said to be against nature ; it is like taking 
the dam on the nest when she hatches her young, 
— a sin so against nature that Almighty God hath 
in the Levitical law made a law against it. 

But the poor fish have enemies enough besides 
such unnatural fishermen, as, namely, the otters 
that I spake of, the cormorant, the bittern, the 
osprey, the seagull, the hern, the kingfisher, the 
gorara, the puet, the swan, goose, duck, and 



86 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

the craber, which some call the water-rat : against 
all which any honest man may make a just quar- 
rel, but I will not, — I will leave them to be 
quarrelled with and killed by others ; for I am 
not of a cruel nature, — I love to kill nothing 
but fish. 

. And now to your question concerning your host. 
To speak truly, he is not to me a good compan- 
ion : for most of his conceits were either Scripture 
jests or lascivious jests, — for which I count no 
man witty ; for the devil will help a man that way 
inclined, to the first, and his own corrupt nature, 
which he always carries with him, to the latter. 
But a companion that feasts the company with wit 
and mirth, and leaves out the sin which is usually 
mixed with them, he is the man ; and indeed such 
a companion should have his charges borne : and 
to such company I hope to bring you this night ; 
for at Trout Hall, not far from this place, where I 
purpose to lodge to-night, there is usually an an- 
gler that proves good company. And, let me tell 
you, good company and good discourse are the 
very sinews of virtue : but for such discourse as 
we heard last night, it infects others ; the very 
boys will learn to talk and swear, as they heard 
mine host, and another of the company that shall 
be nameless ; I am sorry the other is a gentleman, 
for less religion will not save their souls than a 
beggar's : I think more will be required at the last 
great day. Well, you know what example is able 
to do ; and I know what the poet says in like case, 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 87 

which is worthy to be noted by all parents and 
people of civility : — 

" Many a one 
Owes to his country his religion ; 
And in another would as strongly grow, 
Had but his nurse or mother taught him so." 

This is reason put into verse, and worthy the 
consideration of a wise man. But of this no more ; 
for though I love civility, yet I hate severe cen- 
sures. I '11 to my own art ; and I doubt riot but 
at yonder tree I shall catch a chub, and then we '11 
turn to an honest cleanly hostess, that I know 
right well, rest ourselves there, and dress it for 
our dinner. 

Ven. Oh, sir ! a chub is the worst fish that 
swims; I hoped for a trout to my dinner. 

Pise. Trust me, sir, there is not a likely place 
for a trout hereabout, and we stayed so long to take 
our leave of your huntsman this morning that the 
sun is got so high, and shines so clear, that I will 
not undertake the catching of a trout till evening. 
And though a chub be, by you and many others, 
reckoned the worst of fish, yet you shall see I '11 
make it a good fish by dressing it. 

Ven. Why, how will you dress him ? 

Pise. I '11 tell you by and by, when I have 
caught him. Look you here, sir, do you see ? (but 
you must stand very close,) there lie upon the top 
of the water, in this very hole, twenty chubs. I '11 
catch only one, and that shall be the biggest of 



SS THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

them all ; and that I will do so, I '11 hold you 
twenty to one, and you shall see it done. 

Ven. Ay, marry, sir ! now you talk like an ar- 
tist ; and I '11 say you are one, when I shall see 
you perform what you say you can do : but I yet 
doubt it. 

Pise. You shall not doubt it long, for you shall 
see me do it presently. Look, the biggest of these 
chubs has had some bruise upon his tail, by a pike 
or some other accident, and that looks like a white 
spot ; that very chub I mean to put into your 
hands presently. Sit you but down in the shade, 
and stay but a little while, and I '11 warrant you. 
I '11 bring him to you. 

Ven. I '11 sit down and hope well, because you 
seem to be so confident. 

Pise. Look you, sir, there is a trial of my skill ; 
there he is, that very chub that I showed you, with 
a white spot on his tail ; and I '11 be as certain to 
make him a good dish of meat, as I was to catch 
him. I '11 now lead you to an honest ale-house, 
where we shall find a cleanly room, lavender 
in the windows, and twenty ballads stuck against 
the wall ; there my hostess — which, I may tell 
you, is both cleanly and handsome and civil — 
hath dressed many a one for me, and shall now 
dress it after my fashion, and I warrant it good 
meat. 

Ven. Come, sir, with all my heart, for I begin 
to be hungry, and long to be at it, and indeed to 
rest myself too ; for though I have walked but 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 89 

four miles this morning, yet I begin to be weary ; 
yesterday's hunting hangs still upon me. 

Pise. Well, sir, and you shall quickly be at rest, 
for yonder is the house I mean to bring you to. 

Come, hostess, how do you do? Will you first 
give us a cup of your best drink, and then dress 
this chub, as you dressed my last, when I and my 
friend were here about eight or ten days ago ? But 
you must do me one courtesy, — it must be done 
instantly. 

Hostess. I will do it, Mr. Piscator, and with all 
the speed I can. 

Pise. Now, sir, has not my hostess made haste ? 
and does not the fish look lovely ? 

Ven. Both, upon my word, sir; and therefore 
let's say grace, and fall to eating of it. 

Pise. Well, sir, how do you like it ? 

Ven. Trust me, 't is as good meat as I ever 
tasted : now let me thank you for it, drink to you, 
and beg a courtesy of you ; but it must not be 
denied me. 

Pise. What is it, I pray, sir? You are so 
modest that methinks I may promise to grant it, 
before it is asked. 

Ven. Why, sir, it is that from henceforth you 
will allow me to call you master, and that really I 
may be your scholar ; for you are such a com- 
panion, and have so quickly caught and so excel- 
lently cooked this fish, as makes me ambitious to 
be your scholar. 

Pise, Give me your hand ; from this time for- 



90 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

ward I will be your master, and teach you as much 
of this art as I am able ; and will, as you desire 
me, tell you somewhat of the nature of most of the 
fish that we are to angle for, and I am sure I both 
can and will tell you more than any common angler 
yet knows. 



CHAPTER III. 

HOW TO FISH FOR, AND TO DRESS THE CHAVEN- 
DER, OR CHUB. 

piSCATOR. The chub, though he eat well, 
thus dressed, yet as he is usually dressed, he 
does not : he is objected against, not only for 
being full of small forked bones, dispersed through 
all his body, but that he eats waterish, and that the 
flesh of him is not firm, but short and tasteless. 
The French esteem him so mean as to call him 
tin vilain. Nevertheless, he may be so dressed 
as to make him very good meat ; as, namely, if he 
be a large chub, then dress him thus : — 

First, scale him, and then wash him clean, and 
then take out his guts, — and to that end make 
the hole as little and near to his gills as you may 
conveniently, — and especially make clean his 
throat from the grass and weeds that are usually in 
it ; for if that be not very clean, it will make him 
taste very sour. Having so done, put some sweet 
herbs into his belly ; and then tie him with two or 
three splinters to a spit, and roast him, basted often 



92 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

with vinegar, or rather verjuice and butter, and 
with good store of salt mixed with it. 

Being thus dressed, you will find him a much 
better dish of meat than you or most folk, even 
than anglers themselves, do imagine. For this 
dries up the fluid watery humor with which all 
chubs do abound. 

But take this rule with you, that a chub newly 
taken and newly dressed is so much better than 
a chub of a day's keeping after he is dead, that I 
can compare him to nothing so fitly as to cherries 
newly gathered from a tree, and others that have 
been bruised and lain a day or two in water. But 
the chub being thus used, and dressed presently, 
and not washed after he is gutted, — for note that 
lying long in water, and washing the blood out of 
any fish after they be gutted, abates much of their 
sweetness, — you will find the chub, being dressed 
in the blood and quickly, to be such meat as 
will recompense your labor and disabuse your 
opinion. 

Or you may dress the chavender, or chub, thus : 

When you have scaled him and cut off his tail 
and fins, and washed him very clean, then chine 
or slit him through the middle, as a salt fish is 
usually cut. Then give him three or four cuts or 
scotches on the back with your knife, and broil 
him on charcoal or wood coal that is free from 
smoke ; and all the time he is broiling baste him 
with the best sweet butter, and good store of salt 
mixed with it. And to this add a little thyme cut 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



93 



exceedingly small or bruised into the butter. The 
cheven thus dressed hath the watery taste taken 
away, for which so many except against him. 
Thus was the cheven dressed that you now liked 
so well and commended so much. But note again 
that if this chub that you ate of had been kept till 
to-morrow, he had not been worth a rush. And 
remember that his throat be washed very clean, — 
I say very clean, — and his body not washed after 
he is gutted, as indeed no fish should be. 

Well, scholar, you see what pains I have taken 
to recover the lost credit of the poor despised 
chub. And now I will give you some rules how to 
catch him, and I am glad to enter you into the art 
of fishing by catching a chub, for there is no better 
fish to enter a young angler, he is so easily caught ; 
but then it must be this particular way. 

Go to the same hole in which I caught my chub, 
where, in most hot days, you will find a dozen or 
twenty chevens floating near the top of the water. 
Get two or three grasshoppers as you go over the 
meadow, and get secretly behind the tree, and 
stand as free from motion as possible. Then put 
a grasshopper on your hook, and let your hook 
hang a quarter of a yard short of the water, to 
which end you must rest your rod on some bough 
of the tree. But it is likely the chubs will sink 
down towards the bottom of the water at the first 
shadow of your rod, for the chub is the fearfullest 
of fishes, and will do so if but a bird flies over him 
and makes the least shadow on the water. But 



94 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

they will presently rise up to the top again, and 
there lie soaring till some shadow affrights them 
again. I say, when they lie on the top of the 
water, look out the best chub, which you, setting 
yourself in a fit place, may very easily see, and 
move your rod as softly as a snail moves, to that 
chub you intend to catch ; let your bait fall gently 
on the water three or four inches before him, and 
he will infallibly take the bait. And you will be as 
sure to catch him, for he is one of the leather- 
mouthed fishes, of which a hook does scarcely ever 
lose its hold, and therefore give him play enough 
before you offer to take him out of the water. Go 
your way presently, take my rod and do as I bid 
you, and I will sit down and mend my tackling 
till you return back. 

Ve?i. Truly, my loving master, you have offered 
me as fair as I could wish. I '11 go and observe 
your directions. 

Look you, master, what I have done ! that 
which joys my heart, — caught just such another 
chub as yours was. 

Pise. Marry ! and I am glad of it ; I am like to 
have a towardly scholar of you. I now see that 
with advice and practice you will make an angler 
in a short time. Have but a love to it, and I '11 
warrant you. 

Ven. But, master, what if I could not have found 
a grasshopper? 

Pise. Then I may tell you that a black snail, 
with his belly slit to show the white, or a piece of 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 95 

soft cheese, will usually do as well. Nay, some- 
times a worm or any kind of fly, as the ant-fly, the 
flesh-fly, or wall-fly, or the dor or beetle, which 
you may find under cow-dung, or a bob, which 
you will find in the same place, and in time will 
be a beetle, — it is a short white worm, like to and 
bigger than a gentle or a cod-worm or a case- 
worm, — any of these will do very well to fish in 
such a manner. 

And after this manner you may catch a trout in 
a hot evening : when, as you walk by a brook and 
shall see or hear him leap at flies, then if you get 
a grasshopper, put it on your hook, with your line 
about two yards long, standing behind a bush or 
tree where his hole is, and make your bait stir up 
and down on the top of the water. You may, if 
you stand close, be sure of a bite, but not sure to 
catch him, for he is not a leather-mouthed fish. 
And after this manner you may fish for him with 
almost any kind of live fly, but especially with a 
grasshopper. 

Ven. But before you go further, I pray, good 
master, what mean you by a leather-mouthed 
fish? 

Pise. By a leather-mouthed fish I mean such as 
have their teeth in their throat, as the chub, or 
cheven. And so the barbel, the gudgeon and carp, 
and divers others have. And the hook being stuck 
into the leather or skin of the mouth of such fish, 
does very seldom or never lose its hold ; but on the 
contrary, a pike, a perch, or trout, and so some 



96 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

other fish, which have not their teeth in their 
throats but in their mouths, which you shall ob- 
serve to be very full of bones, and the skin very 
thin, and little of it. I say of these fish the hook 
never takes so sure hold, but you often lose your 
fish unless he have gorged it. 

Ven. I thank you, good master, for this observa- 
tion. But now what shall be done with my chub, 
or cheven, that I have caught? 

Pise. Marry, sir, it shall be given away to some 
poor body, for I '11 warrant you I '11 give you a trout 
for your supper ; and it is a good beginning of your 
art to offer your first-fruits to the poor, who will 
both thank you and God for it, which I see by 
your silence you seem to consent to. And for 
your willingness to part with it so charitably, I will 
also teach more concerning chub-fishing. You are 
to note that in March and April he is usually 
taken with worms. In May, June, and July he 
will bite at any fly, or at cherries, or at beetles 
with their legs and wings cut off, or at any kind of 
snail, or at a black bee that breeds in clay walls. 
And he never refuses a grasshopper on the top of 
a swift stream, nor at the bottom the young hum- 
ble-bee that breeds in long grass, and is ordinarily 
found by the mower of it. In August and in the 
cooler months, a yellow paste, made of the strong- 
est cheese, and pounded in a mortar, with a little 
butter and saffron, so much of it as being beaten 
small will turn it to a lemon color. And some 
make a paste for the winter months — at which time 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. gj 

the chub is accounted best, for then it is observed 
that the forked bones are lost or turned into a kind 
of gristle, especially if he be baked — of cheese 
and turpentine. He will bite also at a minnow or 
penk as a trout will, of which I shall tell you 
more hereafter, and of divers other baits. But 
take this for a rule, that in hot weather he is to be 
fished for towards the mid-water, or near the top, 
and in colder weather nearer the bottom. And if 
you fish for him on the top with a beetle or any 
fly, then be sure to let your line be very long, and 
to keep out of sight. And having told you that 
his spawn is excellent meat, and that the head of a 
large cheven, the throat being well washed, is the 
best part of him, I will say no more of this fish at 
present, but wish you may catch the next you fish 
for. 

But lest you may judge me too nice in urging to 
have the chub dressed so presently after he is 
taken, I will commend to your consideration how 
curious former times have been in the like kind. 

You shall read in Seneca's " Natural Questions," 
lib. iii. cap. 1 7, that the ancients were so curious 
in the newness of their fish, that that seemed not 
new enough that was not put alive into the guest's 
hand. And he says that to that end they did 
usually keep them living in glass bottles in their 
dining-rooms ; and they did glory much in their 
entertaining of friends to have that fish taken from 
under their table alive that was instantly to be fed 
upon. And he says they took great pleasure to 
7 



98 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

see their mullets change to several colors when 
they were dying. But enough of this, for I doubt 
I have stayed too long from giving you some 
observations of the trout and how to fish for 
him, which shall take up the next of my spare 
time. 



CHAPTER IV. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE NATURE AND BREEDING OF 
THE TROUT, AND HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. AND 
THE MILKMAID'S SONG. 



p/SCATOR. The trout is a fish highly valued 
both in this and foreign nations. He may be 
justly said, as the old poet said of wine, and we 
English say of venison, to be a generous fish, — 
a fish that is so like the buck that he also has his 
seasons, for it is observed that he comes in and 
goes out of season with the stag and buck. Gesner 
says his name is of German offspring, and he says 
he is a fish that feeds clean and purely in the 
swiftest streams and on the hardest gravel, and 
that he may justly contend with all fresh-water 
fish, as the mullet may with all sea-fish, for prece- 
dency and daintiness of taste, and that being in 
right season, the most dainty palates have allowed 
precedency to him. 

And before I go further into my discourse let 
me tell you that you are to observe that as there 
be some barren does that are good in summer, so 



IOO THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

there be some barren trouts that are good in win- 
ter ; but there are not many that are so, for usually 
they be in their perfection in the month of May, 
and decline with the buck. Now you are to take 
notice that in several countries, as in Germany and 
in other parts, compared to ours, fish do differ 
much in their bigness and shape and other ways, 
and so do trouts. It is well known that in the 
Lake Leman, the lake of Geneva, there are trouts 
taken of three cubits long, as is affirmed by Ges- 
ner, a writer of good credit. And Mercator says 
the trouts that are taken in the Lake of Geneva 
are a great part of the merchandise of that famous 
city. And you are further to know that there be 
certain waters that breed trouts remarkable both 
for their number and smallness. I know a little 
brook in Kent that breeds them to a number in- 
credible, and you may take them twenty or forty 
in an hour, but none greater than about the size 
of a gudgeon. There are also in divers rivers, es- 
pecially that relate to or be near to the sea as 
Winchester, or the Thames about Windsor, a little 
trout called a samlet, or skegger trout, — in both 
which places I have caught twenty or forty at a 
standing, — that will bite as fast and as freely as 
minnows; these be by some taken to be young 
salmons, but in those waters they never grow to be 
bigger than a herring. 

There is also in Kent, near to Canterbury, a trout 
called there a Fordidge trout (a trout that bears the 
name of the town where it is usually caught), that 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. IOI 

is accounted the rarest of fish, — many of them 
near the bigness of a salmon, but known by their 
different color, — and in their best season they cut 
very white. And none of these have been known 
to be caught with an angle, unless it were one 
that was caught by Sir George Hastings, an excel- 
lent angler, and now with God ; and he hath told 
me he thought that trout bit, not for hunger, but 
wantonness. And it is the rather to be believed, 
because both he then and many others before him 
have been curious to search into their bellies what 
the food was by which they lived, and have found 
out nothing by which they might satisfy their 
curiosity. 

Concerning which you are to take notice that 
it is reported by good authors that grasshoppers 
and some fish have no mouths, but are nourished 
and take breath by the porousness of their gills, 
man knows not how. And this may be believed if 
we consider that when the raven hath hatched her 
eggs, she takes no further care, but leaves her 
young ones to the care of the God of nature, who 
is said in the Psalms, " to feed the young ravens 
that call upon him ; " and they be kept alive and 
fed by dew, or worms that breed in their nests, or 
some other way that we mortals know not. And 
this may be believed of the Fordidge trout, which 
as it is said of the stork that " he knows his sea- 
son," so he knows his times, I think almost his day, 
of coming into that river out of the sea ; where 
he lives, and it is like feeds nine months of the 



102 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

year, and fasts three in the river of Fordidge. 
And you are to note that those townsmen are very 
punctual in observing the time of beginning to fish 
for them, and boast much that their river affords a 
trout that exceeds all others. And just so does 
Sussex boast of several fish, as, namely, a Shelsey 
cockle, a Chichester lobster, an Arundel mullet, 
and an Amerly trout. 

And, now, for some confirmation of the Fordidge 
trout, you are to know that this trout is thought to 
eat nothing in the fresh water ; and it may be the 
better believed because it is well known that swal- 
lows and bats and wagtails — which are called half- 
year birds, and not seen to fly in England for six 
months in the year, but about Michaelmas leave 
us for a hotter climate — yet some of them that 
have been left behind their fellows have been 
found, many thousands at a time, in hollow trees 
or clay caves, where they have been observed to 
live and sleep out the whole winter without meat. 
And so Albertus observes that there is one kind 
of frog that hath her mouth naturally shut up 
about the end of August, and that she lives 
so all the winter; and though it be strange to 
some, yet it is known to too many among us to 
be doubted. 

And so much for these Fordidge trouts, which 
never afford an angler sport, but either live their 
time of being in the fresh water by their meat 
formerly gotten in the sea, — not unlike the swallow 
or frog, — or by the virtue of the fresh water only, 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 103 

or as the birds of paradise and the chameleon are 
said to live, by the sun and the air. 

There is also in Northumberland a trout called 
a bull-trout, of a much greater length and bigness 
than any in these southern parts. And there are 
in many rivers that relate to the sea salmon- 
trouts, as much different from others, both in shape 
and in their spots, as we see sheep in some coun- 
tries differ one from another in their shape and 
bigness and the fineness of their wool. And cer- 
tainly, as some pastures breed larger sheep, so do 
some rivers, by reason of the ground over which 
they run, breed larger trouts. 

Now, the next thing that I will commend to 
your consideration is, that the trout is of a more 
sudden growth than other fish ; concerning which 
you are also to take notice that he lives not so 
long as the perch and divers other fishes do, as 
Sir Francis Bacon hath observed in his " History 
of Life and Death." 

And next you are to take notice that he is not 
like the crocodile, which if he lives never so long, 
yet always thrives till his death. But it is not so 
with the trout ; for after he is come to his full 
growth, he declines in his body, and keeps his 
bigness, or thrives only in his head, till his death. 
And you are to know that he will about, especially 
before, the time of his spawning get almost mira- 
culously through weirs and flood-gates against the 
streams, even through such high and swift places 
as is almost incredible. Next, that the trout 



104 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 

usually spawns about October or November, but 
in some rivers a little sooner or later ; which is the 
more observable, because most other fish spawn in 
the spring or summer, when the sun hath warmed 
both the earth and water, and made it fit for 
generation. And you are to note that he con- 
tinues many months out of season ; for it may be 
observed of the trout that he is like the buck or 
the ox, that will not be fat in many months, 
though he go in the very same pastures that horses 
do, which will be fat in one month. And so you 
may observe that most other fishes recover 
strength, and grow sooner fat and in season than 
the trout doth. 

And next you are to note that till the sun gets to 
such a height as to warm the earth and the water, 
the trout is sick and lean and lousy and unwhole- 
some, for you shall in winter find him to have a 
big head, and then to be lank and thin and lean, 
at which time many of them have sticking on them 
sugs or trout-lice, which is a kind of worm, in 
shape like a clove or pin, with a big head, and 
sticks close to him and sucks his moisture. Those, 
I think, the trout breeds himself, and never thrives 
till he free himself from them, which is when warm 
weather comes ; and then as he grows stronger he 
gets from the dead still water into the sharp 
streams and the gravel, and there rubs off these 
worms or lice ; and then, as he grows stronger, so 
he gets him into swifter and swifter streams, and 
there lies at the watch for any fly or minnow that 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 105 

comes near to him ; and he especially loves the 
May-fly, which is bred of the cod-worm or cadis ; 
and these make the trout bold and lusty, and he 
is usually fatter and better meat at the end of that 
month than at any time of the year. 

Now, you are to know that it is observed that 
usually the best trouts are either red or yellow, 
though some, as the Fordidge trout, be white and 
yet good ; but that is not usual. And it is a note 
observable that the female trout hath usually a less 
head and a deeper body than the male trout, and 
is usually the better meat. And note that a hog- 
back and a little head to either trout, salmon, or 
any other fish, is a sign that that fish is in season. 

But yet you are to note that as you see some 
willows or palm-trees bud and blossom sooner 
than others do, so some trouts be in rivers sooner 
in season. And as some hollies or oaks are longer 
before they cast their leaves, so are some trouts in 
rivers longer before they go out of season. 

And you are to note that there are several kinds 
of trouts ; but these several kinds are not considered 
but by very few men, for they go under the gene- 
ral name of trouts, just as pigeons do in most 
places, though it is certain there are tame and wild 
pigeons ; and of the tame there be helmits and 
runts, and carriers and cropers, and indeed too 
many to name. Nay, the Royal Society have 
found and published lately, that there be thirty 
and three kinds of spiders, and yet all, for aught 
I know, go under that one general name of spider. 



106 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 

And it is so with many kinds of fish, and of trouts 
especially, which differ in their bigness and shape 
and spots and color. The great Kentish hens 
may be an instance compared to other hens. And 
doubtless there is a kind of small trout which will 
never thrive to be big, that breeds very many more 
than others do, that be of a larger size ; which you 
may rather believe, if you consider that the little 
wren and titmouse will have twenty young ones at 
a time, when usually the noble hawk or the musi- 
cal thrassel or blackbird exceed not four or five. 

And now you shall see me try my skill to catch 
a trout. And at my next walking, either this even- 
ing or to-morrow morning, I will give you direc- 
tion how you yourself shall fish for him. 

Ven. Trust me, master, I see now it is a harder 
matter to catch a trout than a chub j for I have put 
on patience, and followed you these two hours, 
and not seen a fish stir, neither at your minnow 
nor your worm. 

Pise. Well, scholar, you must endure worse luck 
sometime, or you will never make a good angler. 
But what say you now ? There is a trout now, and 
a good one too, if I can but hold him, and two or 
three turns more will tire him. Now you see he 
lies still, and the sleight is to land him. Reach 
me that landing-net. So, sir, now he is mine own, 
what say you now ? Is not this worth all my labor 
and your patience ? 

Ven. On my word, master, this is a gallant trout ; 
what shall we do with him ? 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. loy 

Pise. Marry, e'en eat him to supper. We '11 go 
to my hostess from whence we came. She told 
me, as I was going out of door, that my brother 
Peter, a good angler and a cheerful companion, 
had sent word he would lodge there to-night, and 
bring a friend with him. My hostess has two beds, 
and I know you and I have the best ; we '11 rejoice 
with my brother Peter and his friend, tell tales, or 
sing ballads, or make a catch, or find some harm- 
less sport to content us, and pass away a little time 
without offence to God or man. 

Ve?i. A match, good master. Let 's go to that 
house ; for the linen looks white, and smells of 
lavender, and I long to lie in a pair of sheets that 
smell so. Let 's be going, good master, for I am 
hungry again with fishing. 

Pise. Nay, stay a little, good scholar. I caught 
my last trout with a worm. Now I will put on a 
minnow, and try a quarter of an hour about yon- 
der trees for another, and so walk towards our 
lodging. Look you, scholar, thereabout we shall 
have a bite presently or not at all. Have with 
you, sir, o' my word I have hold of him. Oh ! it 
is a great logger-headed chub ; come, hang him 
upon that willow twig, and let 's be going. But 
turn out of the way a little, good scholar, toward 
yonder high honeysuckle hedge j there we '11 sit 
and sing, whilst this shower falls so gently upon 
the teeming earth, and gives yet a sweeter smell 
to the lovely flowers that adorn these verdant 
meadows. 



108 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Look ! under that broad beech-tree I sat down 
when I was last this way a-fishing ; and the birds 
in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly 
contention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed 
to live in a hollow tree near to the brow of that 
primrose-hill. There I sat viewing the silver 
streams glide silently towards their centre, the 
tempestuous sea; yet sometimes opposed by 
rugged roots and pebble-stones, which broke their 
waves, and turned them into foam. And some- 
times I beguiled time by viewing the harmless 
lambs, — some leaping securely in the cool shade, 
whilst others sported themselves in the cheerful 
sun ; and saw others craving comfort from the 
swollen udders of their bleating dams. As I thus 
sat, these and other sights had so fully possessed 
my soul with content that I thought, as the poet 
has happily expressed it, — 

" I was for that time lifted above earth, 
And possessed joys not promised in my birth." 

As I left this place and entered into the next 
field, a second pleasure entertained me : 't was a 
handsome milkmaid, that had not yet attained so 
much age and wisdom as to load her mind with 
any fears of many things that will never be, as 
too many men too often do ; but she cast away 
all care, and sung like a nightingale. Her voice 
was good, and the ditty fitted for it ; it was that 
smooth song which was made by Kit Marlowe, 
now at least fifty years ago. And the milkmaid's 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 109 

mother sung an answer to it, which was made by 
Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days. 

They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely 
good, — I think, much better than the strong 
lines which are now in fashion in this critical age. 
Look yonder ! on my word, yonder, they both 
be a-milking again. I will give her the chub, and 
persuade them to sing those two songs to us. 

God speed you, good woman ! I have been 
a-fishing, and am going to Bleak Hall to my bed ; 
and having caught more fish than will sup my- 
self and my friend, I will bestow this upon you 
and your daughter, for I use to sell none. 

Milkw. Marry, God requite you, sir, and we '11 
eat it cheerfully. And if you come this way 
a-fishing two months hence, a grace of God, I '11 
give you syllabub of new verjuice in a new-made 
hay-cock for it. And my Maudlin J shall sing you 
one of her best ballads ; for she and I both love all 
anglers, — they be such honest, civil, quiet men. 
In the mean time will you drink a draught of red 
cow's milk? You shall have it freely. 

Pise. No, I thank you ; but, I pray, do us a 
courtesy that shall stand you and your daughter 
in nothing, and yet we will think ourselves still 
something in your debt : it is but to sing us a song 
that was sung by your daughter when I last passed 
over this meadow, about eight or nine days since. 

Milkw. What song was it, I pray? Was it, 

1 Diminutive for Matilda. 



IIO THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

" Come, shepherds, deck your herds," or " As at 
noon Dulcina rested," or "Phillida flouts me," 
or "Chevy Chace," or " Johnny Armstrong," or 
" Troy Town " ? 

Pise. No, it is none of those ; it is a song that 
your daughter sung the first part, and you sung 
the answer to it. 

Milkw. Oh, I know it now ! I learned the first 
part in my golden age, when I was about the age 
of my poor daughter ; and the latter part, which 
indeed fits me best now, but two or three years 
ago, when the cares of the world began to take 
hold of me. But you shall, God willing, hear 
them both, and sung as well as we can, for we both 
love anglers. Come, Maudlin, sing the first part 
to the gentlemen with a merry heart, and I '11 
sing the second when you have done. 

THE MILKMAID'S SONG. 

Come live with me and be my love, 
And we will all the pleasures prove, 
That valleys, groves, or hills, or field, 
Or woods, and steepy mountains yield. 

Where we will sit upon the rocks, 
And see the shepherds feed our flocks, 
By shallow rivers, to whose falls 
Melodious birds sing madrigals. 

And I will make thee beds of roses, 
And, then, a thousand fragrant posies ; 
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle, 
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle ; 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Ill 

A gown made of the finest wool, 
Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; 
Slippers lined choicely for the cold, 
With buckles of the purest gold ; 

A belt of straw, and ivy buds, 
With coral clasps and amber studs : 
And if these pleasures may thee move, 
Come live with me, and be my love. 

Thy silver dishes for thy meat, 
As precious as the gods do eat, 
Shall on an ivory table be 
Prepared each day for thee and me. 

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing 
For thy delight each May morning : 
If these delights thy mind may move, 
Then live with me and be my love. 

Ven. Trust me, master, it is a choice song, and 
sweetly sung by honest Maudlin. I now see it 
was not without cause that our good Queen Eliza- 
beth did so often wish herself a milkmaid all the 
month of May, because they are not troubled with 
fears and cares, but sing sweetly all the day, and 
sleep securely all the night, — and without doubt, 
honest, innocent, pretty Maudlin does so. I '11 
bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's milkmaid's wish 
upon her, " That she may die in the spring, and 
being dead may have good store of flowers stuck 
round about her winding-sheet." 



112 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



THE MILKMAID'S MOTHER'S ANSWER. 

If all the world and love were young, 
And truth in every shepherd's tongue, 
These pretty pleasures might me move 
To live with thee and be thy love. 

But Time drives flocks from field to fold ; 
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold, 
Then Philomel becometh dumb, 
And age complains of care to come. 

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields 
To wayward winter reckoning yields. 
A honey tongue, a heart of gall, 
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. 

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, 
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, 
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten ; 
In folly ripe, in reason rotten. 

Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds, 
Thy coral clasps, and amber studs, — 
All these in me no means can move, 
To come to thee and be thy love. 

What should we talk of dainties then, 
Of better meat than's fit for men? 
These are but vain : that 's only good 
Which God hath blessed, and sent for food. 

But could youth last, and love still breed, 
Had joys no date, nor age no need, — 
Then those delights my mind might move, 
To live with thee and be thy love. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 13 

Mother. Well, I have done my song. But, 
stay, honest anglers, for I will make Maudlin to 
sing you one short song more. Maudlin, sing that 
song that you sung last night, when young Coridon 
the shepherd played so purely on his oaten pipe 
to you and your cousin Retty. 

Maud. I will, mother. 

" I married a wife of late, 
The more 's my unhappy fate : 
I married her for love, 
As my fancy did me move, 
And not for a worldly estate. 

" But, oh ! the green sickness 
Soon changed her likeness; 
And all her beauty did fail. 
But 't is not so 
With those that go 
Through frost and snow, 
As all men know, 
And carry the milking-pail." 

Pise. Well sung ! Good woman, I thank you. 
I '11 give you another dish of fish one of these 
days, and then beg another song of you. Come, 
scholar, let Maudlin alone \ do not you offer to 
spoil her voice. Look ! yonder comes mine hostess 
to call us to supper. How now ! is my brother 
Peter come ? 

Hostess. Yes, and a friend with him. They 
are both glad to hear that you are in these parts, 
and long to see you, and long to be at supper, for 
they be very hungry. 

8 



£tje £l)tr& anti jFoutti) Wny$. 

CHAPTER V. 

MORE DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR, AND HOW 
TO MAKE FOR THE TROUT AN ARTIFICIAL MIN- 
NOW AND FLIES ; WITH SOME MERRIMENT. 

piS C A TOR. Well met, brother Peter ! I heard 
you and a friend would lodge here to-night, 
and that hath made me to bring my friend to 
lodge here too. My friend is one that would fain 
be a brother of the angle : he hath been an angler 
but this day, and I have taught him how to catch a 
chub by daping 1 with a grasshopper; and the 
chub he caught was a lusty one of nineteen inches 
long. But pray, brother Peter, who is your 
companion ? 

Peter. Brother Piscator, my friend is an honest 
countryman, and his name is Coridon, and he is 
a downright witty companion, that met me here 
purposely to be pleasant and eat a trout. And I 
have not wetted my line since we met together ; 
but I hope to fit him with a trout for his breakfast, 
for I '11 be early up. 

1 Dapping, or dibbing, is to drop your bait with a very gen- 
tle tap or dab on the surface of the water. — Browne. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 115 

Pise. Nay, brother, you shall not stay so long ; 
for look you, here is a trout will fill six reasonable 
bellies. 

Come, hostess, dress it presently, and get us 
what other meat the house will afford, and give us 
some of your best barley-wine, the good liquor 
that our honest forefathers did use to drink of, — 
the drink which preserved their health, and made 
them live so long, and to do so many good deeds. 

Peter. O' my word, this trout is perfect in sea- 
son. Come, I thank you, and here is a hearty 
draught to you, and to all the brothers of the angle 
wheresoever they be, and to my young brother's 
good fortune to-morrow. I will furnish him with 
a rod if you will furnish him with the rest of the 
tackling; we will set him up and make him a 
fisher. 

And I will tell him one thing for his encourage- 
ment that his fortune hath made him happy to be 
scholar to such a master ; a master that knows as 
much both of the nature and breeding of fish as 
any man, and can also tell him as well how to 
catch and cook them, from the minnow to the 
salmon, as any that I ever met withal. 

Pise. Trust me, brother Peter, I find my scholar 
to be so suitable to my own good humor, which is 
to be free and pleasant and civilly merry, that my 
resolution is to hide nothing that I know from 
him. Believe me, scholar, this is my resolution : 
and so here 's to you a hearty draught, and to all 
that love us and the honest art of angling. 



Il6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Ven. Trust me, good master, you shall not sow 
your seed in barren ground, for I hope to return 
you an increase answerable to your hopes ; but, 
however, you shall find me obedient and thankful 
and serviceable to my best ability. 

Pise. 'T is enough, honest scholar ! come, let's 
to supper. Come, my friend Coridon, this trout 
looks lovely : it was twenty-two inches when it 
was taken ; and the belly of it looked, some part 
of it, as yellow as a marigold, and part of it as 
white as a lily ; and yet, methinks, it looks better 
in this good sauce. 

Cor. Indeed, honest friend, it looks well and 
tastes well. I thank you for it ; and so doth my 
friend Peter, or else he is to blame. 

Peter. Yes, and so I do ; we all thank you, and 
when we have supped I will get my friend Coridon 
to sing you a song for requital. 

Cor. I will sing a song if anybody will sing an- 
other. Else, to be plain with you, I will sing none. 
I am none of those that sing for meat, but for 
company. I say, " 'T is merry in hall when men 
sing all." 1 

Pise. I '11 promise you I '11 sing a song that was 
lately made, at my request, by Mr. William Basse, 
one that hath made the choice songs of the 
" Hunter in his Career," and of " Tom of Bed- 
lam," and many others of note ; and this that I 
will sing is in praise of angling. 

1 Parody on the adage, — 

" It 's merry in the hall 
When beards wag all." 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. WJ 

Cor. And then mine shall be the praise of a 
countryman's life. What will the rest sing of? 

Peter. I will promise you I will sing another 
song in praise of angling to-morrow night ; for we 
will not part till then, but fish to-morrow, and sup 
together, and the next day every man leave fishing, 
and fall to his business. 

Ven. 'T is a match ; and I will provide you a 
song or a catch against then, too, which shall give 
some addition of mirth to the company ; for we 
will be civil and as merry as beggars. 

Pise. 'T is a match, my masters. Let 's e'en 
say grace, and turn to the fire, drink the other 
cup to wet our whistles, and so sing away all sad 
thoughts. 

Come on, my masters ! who begins ? I think it 
is best to draw cuts, and avoid contention. 

Peter. It is a match. Look ! the shortest cut 
falls to Coridon. 

Cor. Well, then, I will begin, for I hate con- 
tention. 

CORIDON'S SONG. 

Oh the sweet contentment 
The countryman doth find ! 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, 

Heigh trolollie lee, 
That quiet contemplation 
Possesseth all my mind : 

Then care away, 

And wend along with me. 



Il8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

For courts are full of flattery, 
As hath too oft been tried ; 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc. 
The city full of wantonness ; 
And both are full of pride : 

Then care away, etc. 

But, oh, the honest countryman 
Speaks truly from his heart ; 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc. 
His pride is in his tillage, 
His horses and his cart : 

Then care away, etc. 

Our clothing is good sheepskins, 
Gray russet for our wives ; 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc. 
'Tis warmth, and not gay clothing, 
That doth prolong our lives : 

Then care away, etc. 

The ploughman, though he labor hard, 
Yet, on the holiday, 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc. 
No emperor so merrily 
Does pass his time away : 

Then care away, etc. 

To recompense our tillage, 
The heavens afford us showers ; 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc. 
And, for our sweet refreshments, 
The earth affords us bowers : 

Then care away, etc. 

The cuckoo and the nightingale 
Full merrily do sing, 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Iig 

And with their pleasant roundelays 
Bid welcome to the spring ; 
Then care away, etc. 

This is not half the happiness 

The countryman enjoys ; 

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc 

Though others think they have as much, 

Yet he that says so, lies : 
Then come away, 
Turn countryman with me. 

Jo. Chalkhill. 

Pise. Well sung ! Coridon, this song was sung 
with mettle, and it was choicely fitted to the occa- 
sion \ I shall love you for it as long as I know 
you. I would you were a brother of the angle ; 
for a companion that is cheerful, and free from 
swearing and scurrilous discourse, is worth gold. 
I love such mirth as does not make friends 
ashamed to look upon one another next morning ; 
nor men that cannot well bear it, to repent the 
money they spend when they be warmed with 
drink. And take this for a rule, — you may pick 
out such times and such companies that you may 
make yourselves merrier for a little than a great 
deal of money ; for " 'T is the company and not 
the charge that makes the feast," and such a com- 
panion you prove. I thank you for it. 

But I will not compliment you out of the debt 
that I owe you, and therefore I will begin my 
song, and wish it may be so well liked. 



120 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



THE ANGLER'S SONG. 

As inward love breeds outward talk, 
The hound some praise, and some the hawk 
Some, better pleased with private sport, 
Use tennis, some a mistress court : 
But these delights I neither wish, 
Nor envy, while I freely fish. 

Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride ; 

Who hawks, lures oft both far and wide; 

Who uses games, shall often prove 

A loser ; but who falls in love 

Is fettered in fond Cupid's snare : 
My angle breeds me no such care. 

Of recreation there is none 
So free as fishing is alone ; 
All other pastimes do no less 
Than mind and body both possess : 

My hand alone my work can do, 

So I can fish and study too. 

I care not, I, to fish in seas ; 

Fresh rivers best my mind do please, 

Whose sweet calm course I contemplate, 

And seek in life to imitate : 

In civil bounds I fain would keep, 
And for my past offences weep. 

And when the timorous trout I wait 
To take, and he devours my bait, 
How poor a thing, sometimes I find, 
Will captivate a greedy mind ! 

And when none bite I praise the wise, 
Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 121 

But yet, though while I fish I fast, 

I make good fortune my repast ; 

And thereunto my friend invite, 

In whom I more than that delight: 
Who is more welcome to my dish 
Than to my angle was my fish. 

As well content no prize to take, 

As use of taken prize to make , 

For so our Lord was pleased when 

He fishers made fishers of men, 

Where, which is in no other game, 
A man may fish and praise his name. 

The first men that our Saviour dear 
Did choose to wait upon him here, 
Blest fishers were, and fish the last 
Food was that he on earth did taste. 
I therefore strive to follow those 
Whom he to follow him hath chose. 

Cor. Well sung, brother ! you have paid your 
debt in good coin. We anglers are all beholden 
to the good man that made this song. Come, 
hostess, give us more ale, and let 's drink to him. 

And now let 's every one go to bed, that we may 
rise early : but first let 's pay our reckoning, for I 
will have nothing to hinder me in the morning ; 
for my purpose is to prevent the sun rising. 

Peter. A match. Come, Coridon, you are to be 
my bedfellow. I know, brother, you and your 
scholar will lie together. But where shall we meet 
to-morrow night? for my friend Coridon and I 
will go up the water towards Ware. 



122 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Pise. And my scholar and I will go down 
towards Waltham. 

Cor. Then let 's meet here, for here are fresh 
sheets that smell of lavender ; and I am sure we 
cannot expect better meat or better usage in any 
place. 

Peter. 'T is a match. Good night to everybody. 

Pise. And so say I. 

Ven. And so say I. 



p/SCA TOR. Good morrow, good hostess ! I 
see my brother Peter is still in bed. Come, 
give my scholar and me a morning drink and a 
bit of meat to breakfast, and be sure to get a dish 
of meat or two against supper, for we shall come 
home as hungry as hawks. Come, scholar, let 's 
be going. 

Ven. Well now, good master, as we walk towards 
the river, give me direction, according to your 
promise, how I shall fish for a trout. 

Pise. My honest scholar, I will take this very 
convenient opportunity to do it. 

The trout is usually caught with a worm or a 
minnow, which some call a penk, or with a fly, 
namely, either a natural or an artificial fly, concern- 
ing which three I will give you some observations 
and directions. 

And first for worms : of these there be very many 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 23 

sorts. Some breed only in the earth, as the earth- 
worm ; others of or amongst plants, as the dug- 
worm ; and others breed either out of excrements 
or in the bodies of living creatures, as in the horns 
of sheep or deer ; or some of dead flesh, as the 
maggot or gentle, and others. 

Now, these be most of them particularly good 
for particular fishes. But for the trout, the dew- 
worm, which some also call the lob-worm, and the 
brandling are the chief; and especially the first for 
a great trout, and the latter for a less. There be 
also of lob-worms some called squirrel-tails, — a 
worm that has a red head, a streak down the 
back, and a broad tail, — which are noted to be 
the best, because they are the toughest, and most 
lively, and live longest in the water ; for you are to 
know that a dead worm is but a dead bait, and 
like to catch nothing, compared to a lively, quick, 
stirring worm. And for a brandling he is usually 
found in an old dung-hill or some very rotten 
place near to it ; but most usually in cow-dung or 
hog's dung, rather than horse-dung, which is some- 
what too hot and dry for that worm. But the 
best of them are to be found in the bark of the 
tanners, which they cast up in heaps after they 
have used it about their leather. 

There are also divers other kinds of worms, 
which for color and shape alter even as the ground 
out of which they are got, — as the marsh-worm, 
the tag-tail, the flag-worm, the dock-worm, the 
oak-worm, the gilt-tail, the twachel or lob-worm, 



124 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

which of all others is the most excellent bait for a 
salmon, and too many to name, even as many 
sorts as some think there be of several herbs or 
shrubs, or of several kinds of birds in the air ; of 
which I shall say no more, but tell you that what 
worms soever you fish with are the better for being 
well scoured, that is, long kept before they be used. 
And in case you have not been so provident, then 
the way to cleanse and scour them quickly is to 
put them all night in water, if they be lob-worms, 
and then put them into your bag with fennel. 
But you must not put your brandlings above an 
hour in water, and then put them into fennel, for 
sudden use ; but if you have time, and purpose to 
keep them long, then they be best preserved in an 
earthen pot, with good store of moss, which is to 
be fresh every three or four days in summer, and 
every week or eight days in winter ; or at least the 
moss taken from them, and clean washed, and 
wrung betwixt your hands till it be dry, and then 
put it to them again. And when your worms, es- 
pecially the brandling, begins to be sick and lose 
of his bigness, then you may recover him by put- 
ting a little milk or cream, about a spoonful in a 
day, into them by drops on the moss ; and if there 
be added to the cream an egg beaten and boiled 
in it, then it will both fatten and preserve them 
long. And note that when the knot which is 
near to the middle of the brandling begins to 
swell, then he is sick, and if he be not well looked 
to is near dying. And for moss you are to note 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 12$ 

that there be divers kinds of it, which I could 
name to you, but will only tell you that that which 
is likest a buck's horn is the best, except it be soft 
white moss, which grows on some heaths, and is 
hard to be found. And note that in a very dry 
time, when you are put to an extremity for worms, 
walnut-tree leaves squeezed into water or salt in 
water, to make it bitter or salt, and then that 
water poured on the ground where you shall see 
worms are used to rise in the night, will make 
them to appear above ground presently. And 
you may take notice, some say that camphor 
put into your bag with your moss and worms 
gives them a strong and so tempting a smell that 
the fish fare the worse and you the better for it. 

And now I shall show you how to bait your 
hook with a worm, so as shall prevent you from 
much trouble, and the loss of many a hook too, 
when you fish for a trout with a running line ; that 
is to say, when you fish for him by hand at the 
ground. I will direct you in this as plainly as I 
can, that you may not mistake. 

Suppose it be a big lob-worm : put your hook 
into him somewhat above the middle, and out 
again a little below the middle. Having done so, 
draw your worm above the arming of your hook ; 
but note that at the entering of your hook it must 
not be at the head-end of the worm, but at the tail- 
end of him, that the point of your hook may come 
out toward the head -'end, and, having drawn him 
above the arming of your hook, then put the point 



126 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

of your hook again into the very head of the 
worm, till it come near to the place where the 
point of the hook first came out ; and then draw 
back that of the worm that was above the shank 
or arming of your hook, and so fish with it. And 
if you mean to fish with two worms, then put the 
second on before you turn back the hook's head 
of the first worm. You cannot lose above two or 
three worms before you attain to what I direct 
you ; and having attained it, you will find it very 
useful, and thank me for it, for you will run on the 
ground without tangling. 

Now for the minnow, or penk. He is not easily 
found and caught till March or in April, for then 
he appears first in the river ; Nature having taught 
him to shelter and hide himself in the winter in 
ditches that be near to the river, and there both 
to hide and keep himself warm in the mud or in 
the weeds, which rot not so soon as in a running 
river, in which place if he were in winter, the dis- 
tempered floods that are usually in that season 
would suffer him to take no rest, but carry him 
headlong to mills and weirs, to his confusion. 
And of these minnows, first, you are to know that 
the biggest size is not the best ; and next, that the 
middle size and the whitest are the best; and 
then you are to know that your minnow must be 
so put on your hook that it must turn round 
when 't is drawn against the stream, and that it 
may turn nimbly, you must put it on a big-sized 
hook, as I shall now direct you, which is thus : 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 27 

Put your hook in at his mouth and out of his gill ; 
then, having drawn your hook two or three inches 
beyond or through his gill, put it again into his 
mouth, and the point and beard out at his tail, and 
then tie the hook and his tail about very neatly with a 
white thread, which will make it the apter to turn 
quick in the water ; that done, pull back that part 
of your line which was slack when you did put 
your hook into the minnow the second time, — I 
say, pull that part of your line back so that it shall 
fasten the head, so that the body of the minnow 
shall be almost straight on your hook ; this done, 
try how it will turn, by drawing it across the water 
or against a stream ; and if it do not turn nimbly, 
then turn the tail a little to the right or left hand, 
and try again till it turn quick : for if not, you are 
in danger to catch nothing ; for know, that it is im- 
possible that it should turn too quick. And you 
are yet to know that in case you want a minnow, 
then a small loach, or a stickle-bag, or any other 
small fish that will turn quick will serve as well. 
And you are yet to know that you may salt them, 
and by that means keep them ready and fit for use 
three or four days, or longer ; and that, of salt, bay 
salt is the best. 

And here let me tell you what many old an- 
glers know right well, that at some times and in 
some waters a minnow is not to be got; and there- 
fore let me tell you I have, which I will show to 
you, an artificial minnow, that will catch a trout as 
well as an artificial fly ; and it was made by a hand- 



128 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

some woman that had a fine hand, and a live min- 
now lying by her. The mould or body of the 
minnow was cloth, and wrought upon or over it 
thus with a needle : the back of it with very sad 
French green silk, and paler green silk towards 
the belly, shadowed as perfectly as you can ima- 
gine, just as you see a minnow. The belly was 
wrought also with a needle, and it was a part of it 
white silk, and another part of it with silver thread ; 
the tail and fins were of a quill, which was shaven 
thin ; the eyes were of two little black beads ; 
and the head was so shadowed, and all of it so 
curiously wrought and so exactly dissembled that 
it would beguile any sharp-sighted trout in a swift 
stream. And this minnow I will now show you. 
Look, here it is ; and if you like it, lend it you, to 
have two or three made by it, for they be easily 
carried about an angler, and be of excellent use ; 
for note that a large trout will come as fiercely at 
a minnow as the highest mettled hawk doth seize 
on a partridge, or a greyhound on a hare. I have 
been told that one hundred and sixty minnows 
have been found in a trout's belly, — either the 
trout had devoured so many, or the miller that 
gave it a friend of mine had forced them down 
his throat after he had taken him. 

Now for flies, which is the third bait wherewith 
trouts are usually taken. You are to know that 
there are so many sorts of flies as there be of 
fruits. I will name you but some of them ; as the 
dun-fly, the stone-fly, the red-fly, the moor-fly, the 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 29 

tawny-fly, the shell-fly, the cloudy or blackish fly, 
the flag-fly, the vine-fly. There be of flies, cater- 
pillars and canker-flies and bear-flies, and indeed 
too many either for me to name or for you to re- 
member. And their breeding is so various and 
wonderful that I might easily amaze myself, and 
tire you in a relation of them. 

And yet I will exercise your promised patience 
by saying a little of the caterpillar, or the palmer- 
fly or worm, that by them you may guess what a 
work it were, in a discourse, but to run over those 
very many flies, worms, and little living creatures 
with which the sun and summer adorn and beau- 
tify the river-banks and meadows, both for the 
recreation and contemplation of us anglers, — 
pleasures which, I think, myself enjoy more than 
any other man that is not of my profession. 

Pliny holds an opinion that many have their 
birth or being from a dew that in the spring falls 
upon the leaves of trees, and that some kinds of 
them are from a dew left upon herbs or flowers, 
and others from a dew left upon the coleworts or 
cabbages. All which kinds of dews, being thick- 
ened and condensed, are by the sun's generative 
heat, most of them, hatched, and in three days 
made living creatures ; and these of several shapes 
and colors, — some being hard and tough, some 
smooth and soft ; some are horned in their head, 
some in their tail, some have none : some have 
hair, some none ; some have sixteen feet, some 
less, and some have none : but as our Topsel 
9 



130 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

hath with great diligence observed, those which 
have none move upon the earth or upon broad 
leaves, their motion being not unlike to the waves 
of the sea. Some of them he also observes to be 
bred of the eggs of other caterpillars, and that 
those in their time turn to be butterflies ; and 
again, that their eggs turn the following year to be 
caterpillars. And some affirm that every plant 
has its particular fly or caterpillar which it breeds 
and feeds. I have seen, and may therefore affirm 
it, a green caterpillar, or worm, as big as a small 
peasecod, which had fourteen legs, — eight on the 
belly, four under the neck, and two near the tail. 
It was found on a hedge of privet, and was taken 
thence and put into a large box, and a little 
branch or two of privet put to it, on which I saw 
it feed as sharply as a dog gnaws a bone. It lived 
thus five or six days, and thrived, and changed the 
color two or three times ; but by some neglect in 
the keeper of it, it then died, and did not turn into 
a fly. But if it had lived it had doubtless turned 
to one of those flies that some call flies of prey, 
which those that walk by the rivers may in sum- 
mer see fasten on smaller flies, and, I think, make 
them their food. And it is observable that as 
there be these flies of prey which be very large, 
so there be others, very little, — created, I think, 
only to feed them, and breed out of I know not 
what ; whose life they say, Nature intended not 
to exceed an hour, — and yet that life is thus 
made shorter by other flies or by accident. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 131 

J T is endless to tell you what the curious search- 
ers into Nature's productions have observed of 
these worms and flies ; but yet I shall tell you 
what Aldrovandus, our Topsel, and others say of 
the palmer-worm, or caterpillar : that whereas 
others content themselves to feed on particular 
herbs or leaves, — for most think those very leaves 
that gave them life and shape give them a particu- 
lar feeding and nourishment, and that upon them 
they usually abide, — yet he observes that this is 
called a pilgrim or palmer-worm for his very wan- 
dering life and various food ; not contenting him- 
self, as others do, with any one certain place for 
his abode, nor any certain kind of herb or flower 
for his feeding, but will boldly and disorderly wan- 
der up and down, and not endure to be kept to a 
diet, or fixed to a particular place. 

Nay, the very colors of caterpillars are, as one 
has observed, very elegant and beautiful. I shall, 
for a taste of the rest, describe one of them, which 
I will some time the next month show you feeding 
on a willow-tree, and you shall find him punctually 
to answer this description : his lips and mouth 
somewhat yellow, his eyes black as jet, his fore- 
head purple, his feet and hinder parts green, his 
tail two-forked and black ; the whole body stained 
with a kind of red spots, which run along the neck 
and shoulder-blade, not unlike the form of Saint 
Andrew's cross, or the letter X, made thus cross- 
wise, and a white line drawn down his back to his 
tail, all which add much beauty to his whole body. 



132 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

And it is to me observable that at a fixed age this 
caterpillar gives over to eat, and towards winter 
comes to be covered over with a strange shell or 
crust, called an aurelia, and so lives a kind of 
dead life, without eating, all the winter. And as 
others of several kinds turn to be several kinds of 
flies and vermin, the spring following, so this cater- 
pillar then turns to be a painted butterfly. 

Come, come, my scholar, you see the river stops 
our morning walk, and I will also here stop my 
discourse ; only, as we sit down under this honey- 
suckle hedge, whilst I look a line to fit the rod 
that our brother Peter hath lent you, I shall, for a 
little confirmation of what I have said, repeat the 
observation of Du Bartas : — 

" God, not contented to each kind to give, 
And to infuse, the virtue generative, 
By his wise power made many creatures breed 
Of lifeless bodies, without Venus' deed. 

" So the Cold Humor breeds the Salamander ; 
Who, in effect, like to her birth's commander, 
With child with hundred winters, with her touch 
Quencheth the fire, though glowing ne'er so much. 

" So in the fire, in burning furnace, springs 
The fly Perausta with the flaming wings 
Without the fire it dies ; in it, it joys, 
Living in that which all things else destroys. 

" So slow Bootes underneath him sees, 
In the icy islands, goslings hatched of trees ; 
Whose fruitful leaves falling into the water, 
Are turned, 't is known, to living fowls soon after. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 33 

" So rotten planks of broken ships do change 
To barnacles. Oh, transformation strange ! 
'T was first a green tree, then a broken hull 
Lately a mushroom, now a flying gull." 

Ven. Oh, my good master, this morning walk has 
been spent to my great pleasure and wonder ; but 
I pray, when shall I have your direction how to 
make artificial flies like to those that the trout 
loves best, and also how to use them? 

Pise. My honest scholar, it is now past five of 
the clock ; we will fish till nine, and then go to 
breakfast. Go you to yon sycamore- tree, and hide 
your bottle of drink under the hollow root of it ; 
for about that time and in that place we will make 
a brave breakfast with a piece of powdered beef 
and a radish or two that I have in my fish-bag ; 
we shall, I warrant you, make a good, honest, 
wholesome, hungry breakfast. And I will then 
give you direction for the making and using of 
your flies. And in the mean time there is your 
rod and line ; and my advice is that you fish as 
you see me do, and let 's try which can catch the 
first fish. 

Ven. I thank you, master. I will observe and 
practise your direction as far as I am able. 

Pise. Look you, scholar, you see I have hold 
of a good fish, — I now see it is a trout. I pray 
put that net under him, and touch not my line ; 
for if you do, then we break all. Well done, 
scholar, I thank you. 

Now for another. Trust me, I have another 



134 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

bite. Come, scholar, come lay down your rod, 
and help me to land this as you did the other. 
So now we shall be sure to have a good dish of 
fish for supper. 

Ven. I am glad of that ; but I have no fortune : 
sure, master, yours is a better rod and better 
tackling. 

Pise. Nay, then, take mine, and I will fish with 
yours. Look you, scholar, I have another. Come, 
do as you did before. And now I have a bite at 
another. Oh me ! he has broke all ; there 's half 
a line and a good hook lost. 

Ven. Ay, and a good trout too. 

Pise. Nay, the trout is not lost ; for, pray take 
notice, no man can lose what he never had. 

Ven. Master, I can neither catch with the first 
nor second angle : I have no fortune. 

Pise. Look you, scholar, I have yet another. 
And now, having caught three brace of trouts, I 
will tell you a short tale as we walk towards our 
breakfast. A scholar, a preacher I should say, 
that was to preach to procure the approbation of a 
parish that he might be their lecturer, had got 
from his fellow-pupil the copy of a sermon that 
was first preached with great commendation by 
him that composed it ; and though the borrower 
of it preached it word for word as it was at first, 
yet it was utterly disliked as it was preached by 
the second to his congregation, — which the ser- 
mon-borrower complained of to the lender of it, 
and was thus answered : " I lent you, indeed, my 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 135 

fiddle, but not my fiddle-stick ; for you are to 
know that every one cannot make music with my 
words, which are fitted to my own mouth." And 
so, my scholar, you are to know that as the ill 
pronunciation or ill accenting of words in a ser- 
mon spoils it, so the ill carriage of your line, or 
not fishing even to a foot in a right place, makes 
you lose your labor ; and you are to know that 
though you have my fiddle, that is, my very rod 
and tacklings with which you see I catch fish, yet 
you have not my fiddle-stick, that is, you yet have 
not skill to know how to carry your hand and 
line, or how to guide it to a right place. And this 
must be taught you ; for you are to remember, I 
told you, angling is an art, either by practice or 
long observation, or both. But take this for a 
rule when you fish for a trout with worm : let your 
line have so much, and not more lead than will 
fit the stream in which you fish ; that is to say, 
more in a great troublesome stream than in a 
smaller that is quieter ; as near as may be, so much 
as will sink the bait to the bottom, and keep it still 
in motion, and not more. 

But now let 's say grace, and fall to breakfast. 
What say you, scholar, to the providence of an 
old angler? Does not this meat taste well, and 
was not this place well chosen to eat it? for this 
sycamore-tree will shade us from the sun's heat. 

Ven. All excellent good, and my stomach ex- 
cellent good too. And now I remember and 
find that true which devout Lessius says, "that 



136 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

poor men, and those that fast often, have much 
more pleasure in eating than rich men and glut- 
tons, that always feed before their stomachs 
are empty of their last meat and call for more ; 
for by that means they rob themselves of that 
pleasure that hunger brings to poor men." And 
I do seriously approve of that saying of yours, 
" that you had rather be a civil, well-governed, 
well-grounded, temperate, poor angler, than a 
drunken lord ; " but I hope there is none such. 
However I am certain of this, that I have been at 
many costly dinners that have not afforded me 
half the content that this has done, for which I 
thank God and you. 

And now, good master, proceed to your prom- 
ised direction for making and ordering my artifi- 
cial fly. 

Pise. My honest scholar, I will do it, for it is a 
debt due unto you by my promise. And because 
you shall not think yourself more engaged to me 
than indeed you really are, I will freely give you 
such directions as were lately given to me by an in- 
genious brother of the angle, an honest man, and 
a most excellent fly-fisher. 

You are to note that there are twelve kinds 
of artificial made-flies to angle with upon the top 
of the water. Note, by the way, that the fittest 
season of using these is a blustering windy day, 
when the waters are so troubled that the natural 
fly cannot be seen or rest upon them. The first 
is the dun-fly, in March : the body is made of 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 27 

dun wool ; the wings of the partridge's feathers. 
The second is another dun-fly : the body of black 
wool, and the wings made of the black drake's 
feathers and of the feathers under his tail. The 
third is the stone-fly, in April : the body is made 
of black wool, made yellow under the wings and 
under the tail, and so made with wings of the 
drake. The fourth is the ruddy-fly, in the begin- 
ning of May the body made of red wool, wrapped 
about with black silk ; and the feathers are the 
wings of the drake, with the feathers of a red 
capon, also, which hang dangling on his sides 
next to the tail. The fifth is the yellow or green- 
ish fly, in May likewise : the body made of yellow 
wool, and the wings made of the red cock's hackle, 
or tail. The sixth is the black-fly, in May also ; 
the body made of black wool, and lapped about with 
the herle of a peacock's tail ; the wings are made 
of the wings of a brown capon, with his blue feath- 
ers in his head. The seventh is the sad yellow- 
fly in June : the body is made of black wool, with 
a yellow list on either side ; and the wings taken 
off the wings of a buzzard, bound with black 
braked hemp. The eighth is the moorish-fly, 
made with the body of duskish wool, and the 
wings made of the blackish mail of the drake. 
The ninth is the tawny-fly, good until the middle 
of June : the body made of tawny wool ; the wings 
made contrary one against the other, made of the 
whitish mail of the wild drake. The tenth is the 
wasp-fly in July : the body made of black wool, 



138 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

lapped about with yellow silk ; the wings made of 
the feathers of the drake or of the buzzard. The 
eleventh is the shell-fly, good in mid-July : the 
body made of greenish wool, lapped about with 
the herle of a peacock's tail, and the wings made 
of the wings of the buzzard. The twelfth is the 
dark drake-fly, good in August : the body made 
with black wool, lapped about with black silk ; his 
wings are made with the mail l of the black drake, 
with a black head. Thus have you a jury of flies 
likely to betray and condemn all the trouts in the 
river. 

I shall next give you some other directions for 
fly-fishing, such as are given by Mr. Thomas 
Barker, a gentleman that hath spent much time in 
fishing ; but I shall do it with a little variation. 

First, let your rod be light and very gentle. I 
take the best to be of two pieces. And let not 
your line exceed, especially for three or four links 
next to the hook, — I say, not exceed three or four 
hairs at the most, though you may fish a little 
stronger above in the upper part of your line ; but 
if you can attain to angle with one hair, you 
shall have more rises and catch more fish. Now 
you must be sure not to cumber yourself with too 
long a line, as most do. And before you begin to 
angle, cast to have the wind on your back, and the 
sun, if it shines, to be before you, and to fish down 
the stream : and carry the point or top of your rod 
downward, by which means the shadow of your- 
1 Meaning the mottled feathers. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 39 

self and rod too will be the least offensive to the 
fish, — for the sight of any shade amazes the fish 
and spoils your sport, of which you must take great 
care. 

In the middle of March, till which time a man 
should not in honesty catch a trout, or in April, if 
the weather be dark or a little windy or cloudy, 
the best fishing is with the palmer-worm, of which 
I last spoke to you j but of these there be divers 
kinds, or at least of divers colors. These and the 
May-fly are the ground of all fly-angling, which are 
to be thus made : — 

First, you must arm * your hook with the line in 
the inside of it ; then take your scissors, and cut 
so much of a brown mallard's feather as in your 
own reason will make the wings of it, you having 
withal regard to the bigness or littleness of your 
hook ; then lay the outmost part of your feather 
next to your hook, then the point of your feather 
next the shank of your hook, and having so done, 
whip it three or four times about the hook with 
the same silk with which your hook was armed ; 
and having made the silk fast, take the hackle of a 
cock's or a capon's neck, or a plover's top, which is 
usually better, take off the one side of the feather, 
and then take the hackle, silk, or crewel, gold or 
silver thread, make these fast at the bent of the 
hook, — that is to say, below your arming ; then 
you must take the hackle, the silver or gold thread, 
and work it up to the wings, shifting or still removing 
1 To tie, or whip round. 



140 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

your finger as you turn the silk about the hook, and 
still looking, at every stop or turn, that your gold, 
or what materials soever you make your fly of, do 
lie right and neatly, and if you find they do so, 
then when you have made the head, make all fast, 
and then work your hackle up to the head, and 
make that fast ; and then with a needle or pin 
divide the wing into two, and then with the arm- 
ing silk whip it about cross-ways betwixt the wings ; 
and then with your thumb you must turn the point 
of the feather towards the bent of the hook, and 
then work three or four times about the shank of 
the hook, and then view the proportion, and if all 
be neat and to your liking, fasten. 

I confess no direction can be given to make a 
man of a dull capacity able to make a fly well ; 
and yet I know this, with a little practice, will help 
an ingenious angler in a good degree. But to see 
a fly made by an artist in that kind is the best 
teaching to make it. And then an ingenious an- 
gler may walk by the river, and mark what flies fall 
on the water that day, and catch one of them, if he 
sees the trout leap at a fly of that kind, and then, 
having always hooks ready hung with him, and 
having a bag also always with him, with bear's 
hair or the hair of a brown or sad-colored heifer, 
hackles of a cock or capon, several colored silk 
and crewel, to make the body of the fly ; the feath- 
ers of a drake's head, black or brown sheep's wool, 
or hog's wool, or hair, thread of gold and of silver, 
silk of several colors, especially sad-colored, to 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 141 

make the fly's head ; and there be also other col- 
ored feathers, both of little birds and of speckled 
fowl ; — I say, having those with him in a bag, and 
trying to make a fly, though he miss at first, yet 
shall he at last hit it better, even to such a perfec- 
tion as none can well teach him. And if he hit to 
make his fly right, and have the luck to hit also 
where there is store of trouts, a dark day, and a 
right wind, he will catch such store of them as will 
encourage him to grow more and more in love 
with the art of fly-making. 1 

Ven. But, my loving master, if any wind will not 
serve, then I wish I were in Lapland, to buy a 
good wind of one of the honest witches that sell 
so many winds there and so cheap. 

Pise. Marry, scholar, but I would not be there, 
nor indeed from under this tree ; for look how it 
begins to rain ! and by the clouds, if I mistake 
not, we shall presently have a smoking shower ; 
and therefore sit close, — this sycamore-tree will 
shelter us, — and I will tell you as they shall come 
into my mind more observations of fly-fishing for 
a trout. 

But first for the wind. You are to take notice 
that of the winds the south wind is said to be the 
best. One observes that 

" When the wind is south, 
It blows your bait into a fish's mouth." 
- Walton was no adept at fly-fishing, and therefore his direc- 
tions should not be followed implicitly. Perhaps no better ad- 
vice can be given to the fly-fisher than that he use the flies 
common to the locality. 



142 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Next to that the west wind is believed to be the 
best ; and having told you that the east wind is 
the worst, I need not tell you which wind is the 
best in the third degree. And yet, as Solomon 
observes that " he that considers the wind shall 
never sow ; " so he that busies his head too much 
about them, if the weather be not made extreme 
cold by an east wind, shall be a little superstitious : 
for as it is observed by some that " there is no 
good horse of a bad color," so I have observed 
that if it be a cloudy day, and not extreme cold, 
let the wind sit in what corner it will, and do 
its worst, I heed it not. And yet take this for a 
rule, that I would willingly fish standing on the 
lee-shore. And you are to take notice that the 
fish lies or swims nearer the bottom, and in deeper 
water, in winter than in summer, and also nearer 
the bottom in a cold day, and then gets nearer the 
lee-side of the water. 

But I promised to tell you more of the fly-fish- 
ing for a trout, which I may have time enough to 
do, for you see it rains May butter. First for a 
May-fly : you may make his body with greenish- 
colored crewel or willowish color, darkening it in 
most places with waxed silk, or ribbed with black 
hair, or some of them ribbed with silver thread ; 
and such wings for the color as you see the fly 
to have at that season, nay, at that very day on the 
water. Or you may make the oak-fly, with an 
orange -tawny and black ground, and the brown of 
a mallard's feather for the wings. And you are to 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 43 

know that these two are most excellent flies ; that 
is, the May-fly and the oak-fly. 

And let me again tell you that you keep as far 
from the water as you can possibly, whether you 
fish with a fly or worm, and fish down the stream. 
And when you fish with a fly, if it be possible, let 
no part of your line touch the water, but your fly 
only ; and be still moving your fly upon the water, 
or casting it into the water, you yourself being also 
always moving down the stream. 

Mr. Barker commends several sorts of the 
palmer-fly, — not only those ribbed with silver and 
gold, but others that have their bodies all made of 
black, or some with red, and a red hackle. You 
may also make the hawthorn-fly, which is all black, 
and not big, but very small, — the smaller the bet- 
ter. Or the oak-fly, the body of which is orange- 
color and black crewel, with a brown wing. Or 
a fly made with a peacock's feather is excellent in 
a bright day. You must be sure you want not in 
your magazine-bag the peacock's feather, and 
grounds of such wool and crewel as will make the 
grasshopper. And note that, usually, the smallest 
flies are the best ; and note, also, that the light fly 
does usually make most sport in a dark day, and 
the darkest and least fly in a bright or clear day ; 
and lastly note that you are to repair upon any 
occasion to your magazine-bag, and upon any 
occasion vary and make them lighter or sadder 
according to your fancy or the day. 

And now I shall tell you that the fishing with a 



144 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

natural fly is excellent, and affords much pleasure. 
They may be found thus : the May-fly usually in 
and about that month near to the river-side, es- 
pecially against rain ; the oak-fly on the butt or 
body of an oak or ash, from the beginning of May 
to the end of August, — it is a brownish fly, and 
easy to be so found, and stands usually with his 
head downward, that is to say, towards the root of 
the tree ; the small black-fly or hawthorn-fly is to 
be had on any hawthorn bush after the leaves be 
come forth. With these, and a short line, as I 
showed to angle for a chub, you may dape or 
dop ; and also with a grasshopper, behind a tree, 
or in any deep hole, still making it to move on the 
top of the water, as if it were alive, and still keeping 
yourself out of sight, you shall certainly have sport 
if there be trouts ; yea, in a hot day, but especially 
in the evening of a hot day, you will have sport. 

And now, scholar, my direction for fly-fishing 
is ended with this shower, for it has done raining. 
And now look about you, and see how pleasantly 
that meadow looks ; nay, and the earth smells as 
sweetly too. Come let me tell you what holy Mr. 
Herbert says of such days and flowers as these ; 
and then we will thank God that we enjoy them, 
and walk to the river and sit down quietly, and 
try to catch the other brace of trouts. 

" Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, 
The bridal of the earth and sky, 
Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night, — 
For thou must die. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 45 

" Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, 
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, 
Thy root is ever in its grave, — 

And thou must die. 

" Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, 
A box where sweets compacted lie; 
My music shows you have your closes, — 
And all must die. 

" Only a sweet and virtuous soul, 
Like seasoned timber, never gives, 
But when the whole world turns to coal, — 
Then, chiefly, lives." 

Ven. I thank you, good master, for your good 
direction for fly-fishing, and for the sweet enjoy- 
ment of the pleasant day, which is, so far, spent 
without offence to God or man. And I thank 
you, for the sweet close of your discourse with 
Mr. Herbert's verses ; who, I have heard, loved 
angling, — and I do the rather believe it, because 
he had a spirit suitable to anglers, and to those 
primitive Christians that you love and have so 
much commended. 

Pise. Well, my loving scholar, and /am pleased 
to know that you are so well pleased with my 
direction and discourse. 

And since you like these verses of Mr. Her- 
bert's so well, let me tell you what a reverend 
and learned divine that professes to imitate him, 
and has indeed done so most excellently, hath 
writ of our Book of Common Prayer ; which I 
know you will like the better, because he is a 



I46 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

friend of mine, and I am sure no enemy to 
angling. 

What ! Prayer by the Book, and common ? Yes ; why not ? 
The spirit of grace 
And supplication 
Is not left free alone 
For time and place, 
But manner too : to read or speak by rote 
Is all alike — to him that prays 
In 's heart what with his mouth he says. 

They that in private, by themselves alone, 
Do pray, may take 
What liberty they please, 
In choosing of the ways 
Wherein to make 
Their souls' most intimate affections known 
To Him that sees in secret, when 
Th' are most concealed from other men. 

But he that unto others leads the way 
In public prayer, 
Should do it so 
As all that hear may know 
They need not fear 
To tune their hearts unto his tongue and say 
Amen ! not doubt they were betrayed 
To blaspheme, when they meant to have prayed. 

Devotion will add life unto the letter : 

And why should not 
That which authority 
Prescribes esteemed be 
Advantage got ? 
If th' prayer be good, the commoner the better, 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 47 

Prayer in the Church's words as well 
As sense, of all prayers bears the bell. 1 

Ch. Harvie. 

And now, scholar, I think it will be time to 
repair to our angle-rods, — which we left in the 
water to fish for themselves ; and you shall choose 
which shall be yours ; and it is an even lay one 
of them catches. 

And let me tell you, this kind of fishing with a 
dead rod, and laying night-hooks, are like putting 
money to use ; for they both work for the owners 
when they do nothing but sleep, or eat, or rejoice, 
as you know we have done this last hour, and sat 
as quietly and as free from cares under this syca- 
more as Virgil's Tityrus and his Meliboeus did 
under their broad beech-tree. No life, my honest 
scholar, — no life so happy and so pleasant as the 
life of a well-governed angler ; for when the lawyer 
is swallowed up with business, and the statesman 
is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on 
cowslip-banks, hear the birds sing, and possess 
ourselves in as much quietness as these silent 
silver streams, which we now see glide so quietly 
by us. Indeed, my good scholar, we may say 
of angling, as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries, 
" Doubtless God could have made a better berry, 

1 These verses were written a v or near the time when the Liturgy 
was abolished by an ordinance of Parliament; and while it was 
agitating, as a theological question, whether, of the two, pre- 
conceived or extemporary prayer is more agreeable to the sense 
of Scripture. 



148 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

but doubtless God never did ; " and so, if I might 
be judge, " God never did make a more calm, 
quiet, innocent recreation than angling." 

I'll tell you, scholar, when I sat last on this 
primrose-bank, and looked down these meadows, 
I thought of them as Charles the Emperor did 
of the city of Florence, " That they were too 
pleasant to be looked on, but only on holy- 
days." As I then sat on this very grass, I 
turned my present thoughts into verse : 't was 
a wish, which I '11 repeat to you. 

THE ANGLER'S WISH,* 

I in these flowery meads would be ; 
These crystal streams should solace me ; 
To whose harmonious bubbling noise 
I with my angle would rejoice ; 
Sit here and see the turtle dove 
Court his chaste mate to acts of love : 

Or on that bank feel the west wind 
Breathe health and plenty ; please my mind 
To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers, 
And then washed off by April showers : 
Here hear my E~enna sing a song ; 
There see a blackbird feed her young. 

Or a leverock build her nest ; 

Here give my weary spirits rest, 

And raise my low-pitched thoughts above 

Earth, or what poor mortals love : 

Thus free from law-suits and the noise 

Of princes' courts, I would rejoice : 

1 Probably written by Walton himself. " Kenna " is an allu- 
sion to his second wife, whose maiden name was Ken. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 49 

Or, with my Bryan and a book 
Loiter long days near Shawford brook: 
There sit by him, and eat my meat, 
There see the sun both rise and set : 
There bid good morning to next day, 
There meditate my time away ; 
And angle on, and beg to have 
A quiet passage to a welcome grave. 

When I had ended this composure, I left the 
place, and saw a brother of the angle sit under 
that honeysuckle hedge, one that will prove worth 
your acquaintance. I sat down by him, and pres- 
ently we met with an accidental piece of merri- 
ment; which I will relate to you, for it rains 
still. 

On the other side of this very hedge sat a gang 
of gypsies, and near to them sat a gang of beg- 
gars. The gypsies were then to divide all the 
money that had been got that week, either by 
stealing linen or poultry, or by fortune-telling, or 
legerdemain, or indeed by any other sleights and 
secrets belonging to their mysterious government. 
And the sum that was got that week proved to be 
but twenty and some odd shillings. The odd money 
was agreed to be distributed amongst the poor 
of their own corporation ; and for the remaining 
twenty shillings, that was to be divided unto four 
gentlemen gypsies, according to their several de- 
grees in their commonwealth. 

And the first or chiefest gypsy was by consent 
to have a third part of the twenty shillings ; which 
all men know is 6s. &d. 



150 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

The second was to have a fourth part of the 
twenty shillings, which all men know to be 5^. 

The third was to have a fifth part of the twenty 
shillings, which all men know to be 4s. 

The fourth and last gypsy was to have a sixth 
part of the twenty shillings, which all men know 
to be 3 j. \d. 

As, for example. 

3 times 6s. Sd. is 20 s. 

And so is 4 times 5^. 20s. 

And so is 5 times 4s. 20^. 



And so is 6 times y 


. ^d. 


— 


20 s. 


And yet he that divided the money was so very 
a gypsy that though he gave to every one these 
said sums, yet he kept one shilling of it for him- 
self. 


As for example, 




s. 


d. 






6 


8 






5 









4 









3 


4 


Make but . . 




!9 






But now you shall know, that when the four 
gypsies saw that he had got one shilling by divid- 
ing the money, though not one of them knew any 
reason to demand more, yet, like lords and cour- 
tiers, every gypsy envied him that was the gainer, 
and wrangled with him ; and every one said, the 
remaining shilling belonged to him : and so they 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 151 

fell to so high a contest about it, as none that 
knows the faithfulness of one gypsy to another, 
will easily believe ; only we that have lived these 
last twenty years are certain that money has been 
able to do much mischief. However, the gypsies 
were too wise to go to law, and did therefore 
choose their choice friends Rook and Shark, and 
our late English Gusman, to be their arbitrators 
and umpires. And so they left this honeysuckle 
hedge, and went to tell fortunes and cheat, 
and get more money and lodging in the next 
village. 

When these were gone we heard as high a con- 
tention amongst the beggars, whether it was easi- 
est to rip a cloak or to unrip a cloak. One 
beggar affirmed it was all one ; but that was denied 
by asking her if doing and undoing were all one. 
Then another said, 't was easiest to unrip a cloak, 
for that was to let it alone ; but she was answered 
by asking her how she unripped it if she let it 
alone. And she confessed herself mistaken. 
These and twenty such-like questions were pro- 
posed with as much beggarly logic and earnest- 
ness as was ever heard to proceed from the 
mouth of the most pertinacious schismatic ; and 
sometimes all the beggars, whose number was 
neither more nor less than the poets' nine muses, 
talked all together about this ripping and unrip- 
ping, and so loud that not one heard what the 
other said. But at last one beggar craved audi- 
ence, and told them that old Father Clause, whom 



152 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Ben Jonson, in his "Beggar's Bush," 1 created 
king of their corporation, was that night to lodge 
at an ale-house, called Catch-her-by-the-way, not 
far from Waltham Cross, and in the high-road 
towards London ; and he therefore desired them to 
spend no more time about that and such-like ques- 
tions, but to refer all to Father Clause at night, for 
he was an upright judge, and in the mean time 
draw cuts what song should be next sung, and 
who should sing it. They all agreed to the mo- 
tion, and the lot fell to her that was the youngest 
and veriest virgin of the company. And she sung 
Frank Davison's song, which he made forty years 
ago ; and all the others of the company joined to 
sing the burden with her. The ditty was this ; but 
first the burden, — ■ 

" Bright shines the sun. Play, beggars, play 1 
Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. 

" What noise of viols is so sweet, 

As when our merry clappers ring ? 
What mirth doth want, when beggars meet ? 

A beggar's life is for a king. 
Eat, drink, and play; sleep when we list, 
Go where we will, so stocks be missed. 

Bright shines the sun. Play, beggars, play ! 
Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. 

" The world is ours, and ours alone, 
For we alone have world at will : 
We purchase not ; all is our own, 

Both fields and streets we beggars fill. 

1 By Beaumont and Fletcher, not Jonson. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 53 

Nor care to get, nor fear to keep, 
Did ever break a beggar's sleep. 

Bright shines the sun. Play, beggars, play ! 

Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. 

" A hundred herds of black and white 
Upon our gowns securely feed ; 
And yet if any dare us bite, 

He dies therefore as sure as creed. 
Thus beggars lord it as they please, 
And only beggars live at ease. 

Bright shines the sun. Play, beggars, play ! 
Here's scraps enough to serve to-day." 

Ven. I thank you, good master, for this piece 
of merriment and this song, which was well 
humored by the maker and well remembered by 
you. 

Pise. But I pray forget not the catch which you 
promised to make against night ; for our country- 
man, honest Coridon, will expect your catch, and 
my song, which I must be forced to patch up, for 
it is so long since I learned it that I have forgot a 
part of it. But come, now it hath done raining, 
let 's stretch our legs a little in a gentle walk to the 
river, and try what interest our angles will pay us 
for lending them so long to be used by the trouts ; 
lent them, indeed, like usurers, for our profit and 
their destruction. 

Ven. Oh me ! look you, master, a fish, a fish ! 
oh, alas, master, I have lost her ! 

Pise. Ay, marry, sir, that was a good fish in- 
deed. If I had had the luck to have taken up 
that rod, then it is twenty to one he should have 



154 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

not broken my line by running to the rod's end, as 
you suffered him. I would have held him within 
the bent of my rod, unless he had been fellow to 
the great trout that is near an ell long, which was 
of such a length and depth that he had his picture 
drawn, and now is to be seen at mine host Rick- 
abie's at the George in Ware; and it may be by 
giving that very great trout the rod, that is, by 
casting it to him into the water, I might have 
caught him at the long run, — for so I use always , 
to do when I meet with an overgrown fish, and 
you will learn to do so too, hereafter ; for I tell 
you, scholar, fishing is an art, or at least it is an art 
to catch fish. 

Ven. But, master, I have heard that the great 
trout you speak of is a salmon. 

Pise. Trust me, scholar, I know not what to say 
to it. There are many country people that be- 
lieve hares change sexes every year, and there be 
very many learned men think so too, for in their 
dissecting them they find many reasons to incline 
them to that belief. And to make the wonder 
seem yet less, that hares change sexes, note that 
Dr. Meric Casaubon affirms, in his book of credi- 
ble and incredible things, that Gaspfar Peucerus, a 
learned physician, tells us of a people that once a 
year turn wolves, partly in shape and partly in con- 
ditions. And so, whether this were a salmon when 
he came into fresh water, and his not returning 
into the sea hath altered him to another color or 
kind, I am not able to say ; but I am certain he 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 155 

hath all the signs of being a trout, both for his 
shape, color, and spots ; and yet many think he is 
not. 

Ven. But, master, will this trout which I had 
hold of die, for it is like he hath the hook in his 
belly? 

Pise. I will tell you, scholar, that unless the 
hook be fast in his very gorge, 't is more than pro- 
bable he will live ; and a little time with the help 
of the water will rust the hook, and it will in time 
wear away, as the gravel doth in the horse-hoof 
which only leaves a false quarter. 

And now, scholar, let 's go to my rod. Look 
you, scholar, I have a fish too, but it proves a log- 
ger-headed chub ; and this is not much amiss, for 
this will pleasure some poor body, as we go to our 
lodging to meet our brother Peter and honest 
Coridon. Come, now bait your hook again, and 
lay it into the water, for it rains again, and we will 
even retire to the sycamore-tree, and there I will 
give you more directions concerning fishing, for I 
would fain make you an artist. 

Ven. Yes, good master, I pray let it be so. 

Pise. Well, scholar, now we are sat down and 
are at ease, I shall tell you a little more of trout- 
fishing before I speak of the salmon, which I pur- 
pose shall be next, and then of the pike or luce. 

You are to know there is night as well as day 
fishing for a trout, and that in the night the best 
trouts come out of their holes. And the manner 
of taking them is on the top of the water with a 



156 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

great lob or garden worm, or rather two, which 
you are to fish with in a place where the waters 
run somewhat quietly, for in a stream the bait will 
not be so well discerned. I say, in a quiet or 
dead place near to some swift, there draw your 
bait over the top of the water to and fro ; and if 
there be a good trout in the hole, he will take it, 
especially if the night be dark, for then he is bold, 
and lies near the top of the water, watching the 
motion of any frog or water-rat or mouse that 
swims betwixt him and the sky. These he hunts 
after if he sees the water but wrinkle or move in 
one of these dead holes, where these great old 
trouts usually lie near to their holds ; for you are to 
note that the great old trout is both subtle and 
fearful, and lies close all day, and does not usu- 
ally stir out of his hold, but lies in it as close in 
the day as the timorous hare does in her form ; 
for the chief feeding of either is seldom in the day, 
but usually in the night, and then the great trout 
feeds very boldly. 

And you must fish for him with a long line and 
not a little hook ; and let him have time to gorge 
your hook, for he does not usually forsake it, as he 
oft will in the day-fishing. And if the night be 
not dark, then fish so with an artificial fly of a 
light color, and at the snap. Nay, he will some- 
times rise at a dead mouse, or a piece of cloth, or 
anything that seems to swim across the water or 
be in motion. This is a choice way ; but I have 
not oft used it, because it is void of the pleasures 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. I 57 

that such days as these that we two now enjoy, 
afford an angler. 

And you are to know that in Hampshire — which 
I think exceeds all England for swift, shallow, 
clear, pleasant brooks and store of trouts — they 
use to catch trouts in the night by the light of a 
torch or straw, which when they have discovered 
they strike with a trout spear or other ways, This 
kind of way they catch very many ; but I would 
not believe it till I was an eyewitness of it, nor do 
I like it now I have seen it. 

Ven. But, master, do not trouts see us in the 
night? 

Pise. Yes, and hear and smell too, both then 
and in the daytime. For Gesner observes, the ot- 
ter smells a fish forty furlongs off him in the water ; 
and that it may be true seems to be affirmed by 
Sir Francis Bacon in the Eighth Century of his 
** Natural history," who there proves that waters 
may be the medium of sounds by demonstrating it 
thus : " That if you knock two stones together 
very deep under the water, those that stand on a 
bank near to that place may hear the noise without 
any diminution of it by the water." He also of- 
fers the like experiment concerning the letting an 
anchor fall, by a very long cable or rope, on a rock 
or the sand within the sea. And this being so well 
observed and demonstrated as it is by that learned 
man has made me to believe that eels unbed 
themselves and stir at the noise of thunder; 
and not only, as some think, by the motion or 



I58 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

stirring of the earth which is occasioned by that 
thunder. 

And this reason of Sir Francis Bacon, Exper. 
792, has made me crave pardon of one that I 
laughed at for affirming that he knew carps come 
to a certain place in a pond to be fed at the ring- 
ing of a bell or the beating of a drum. And how- 
ever, it shall be a rule for me to make as little 
noise as I can when I am fishing until Sir Francis 
Bacon be confuted, which I shall give any man 
leave to do. 

And lest you may think him singular in this 
opinion, I will tell you this seems to be believed 
by our learned Dr. Hakewill, who in his " Apol- 
ogy of God's Power and Providence," fol, 360, 
quotes Pliny to report that one of the emperors 
had particular fish-ponds, and in them several fish 
that appeared and came when they were called 
by their particular names. And Saint James tells 
us (chap. iii. 7) that all things in the sea have been 
tamed by mankind. And Pliny tells us (Lib. ix. 
35) that Antonia, the wife of Drusus, had a lam- 
prey at whose gills she hung jewels or ear-rings, 
and that others have been so tender-hearted as to 
shed tears at the death of fishes which they have 
kept and loved. And these observations, which 
will to most hearers seem wonderful, seem to have 
a further confirmation from Martial, Lib. iv. Epigr. 
30, who writes thus : — 

Piscator, fuge, ne nocens, etc. 
" Angler, vvouldst thou be guiltless ? then forbear ; 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 59 

For these are sacred fishes that swim here, 
Who know their sovereign, and will lick his hand, 
Than which none 's greater in the world's command ; 
Nay more, they've names, and when they called are, 
Do to their several owners' call repair." 

All the further use that I shall make of this 
shall be to advise anglers to be patient and for- 
bear swearing, lest they be heard and catch no 
fish. 

And so I shall proceed next to tell you it is 
certain that certain fields near Leominster, a town 
in Herefordshire, are observed to make the sheep 
that graze upon them more fat than the next, and 
also to bear finer wool ; that is to say, that that 
year in which they feed in such a particular pas- 
ture they shall yield finer wool than they did that 
year before they came to feed in it, and coarser 
again if they shall return to their former pas- 
ture ; and, again, return to a finer wool, being fed 
in the fine wool ground. Which I tell you that 
you may the better believe that I am certain if I 
catch a trout in one meadow he shall be white and 
faint, and very like to be lousy, and, as certainly, 
if I catch a trout in the next meadow, he shall 
be strong and red and lusty, and much better 
meat. Trust me, scholar, I have caught many a 
trout in a particular meadow, that the very shape 
and enamelled color of him hath been such as 
hath joyed me to look on him ; and I have then 
with much pleasure concluded with Solomon. 
M Everything is beautiful in his season." 



160 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

I should by promise speak next of the salmon ; 
but I will, by your favor, say a little of the umber 
or grayling, which is so like a trout for his shape 
and feeding that I desire I may exercise your pa- 
tience with a short discourse of him j and then the 
next shall be of the salmon. 



tfyz jFourtl) sr>a^. 

CHAPTER VI. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE UMBER OR GRAYLING, AND 
DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. 

JDISCATOR. The umber and grayling are 
thought by some to differ as the herring and 
pilchard do. But though they may do so in other 
nations, I think those in England differ nothing 
but in their names. Aldrovandus says they be of 
a trout kind ; and Gesner says that in his coun- 
try, which is Switzerland, he is accounted the 
choicest of all fish. And in Italy he is in the 
month of May so highly valued that he is sold at 
a much higher rate than any other fish. The 
French, which call the chub nn vilain, call the 
umber of the lake Leman tin umble chevalier; and 
they value the umber or grayling so highly that 
they say he feeds on gold, and say that many have 
been caught out of their famous river of Loire 
out of whose bellies grains of gold have been often 
taken. And some think that he feeds on water- 
thyme, and smells of it at his first taking out of 
the water. And they may think so with as good 
reason as we do that our smelts smell like violets 
at their first being caught, which I think is a 



1 62 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 

truth. Aldrovandus says the salmon, the grayling, 
and trout, and all fish that live in clear and sharp 
streams, are made by their mother Nature of such 
exact shape and pleasant colors, purposely to in- 
vite us to a joy and contentedness in feasting with 
her. Whether this is a truth or not, it is not my 
purpose to dispute ; but 't is certain all that write 
of the umber declare him to be very medicinable. 
And Gesner says that the fat of an umber or gray- 
ling being set with a little honey a day or two in 
the sun in a little glass, is very excellent against 
redness or swarthiness, or anything that breeds in 
the eyes. Salvian takes him to be called umber 
from his swift swimming or gliding out of sight, 
more like a shadow or a ghost than a fish. Much 
more might be said both of his smell and taste ; 
but I shall only tell you that Saint Ambrose, the 
glorious Bishop of Milan, who lived when the 
Church kept fasting-days, calls him the flower-fish, 
or flower of fishes, and that he was so far in love 
with him that he would not let him pass without 
the honor of a long discourse ; but I must, and 
pass on to tell you how to take this dainty fish. 

First, note that he grows not to the bigness of a 
trout, for the biggest of them do not usually ex- 
ceed eighteen inches. He lives in such rivers as 
the trout does, and is usually taken with the same 
baits as the trout is, and after the same manner ; 
for he will bite both at the minnow or worm or 
fly, though he bites not often at the minnow, and 
is very gamesome at the fly, and much simpler 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 163 

and therefore bolder than a trout, for he will rise 
twenty times at a fly if you miss him, and yet rise 
again. He has been taken with a fly made of the 
red feathers of a parakita, a strange outlandish 
bird ; and he will rise at a fly not unlike a gnat or 
a small moth, or indeed at most flies that are not 
too big. He is a fish that lurks close all winter, 
but is very pleasant and jolly after mid-April, and 
in May and in the hot months. He is of a very fine 
shape ; his flesh is white ; his teeth, those little 
ones that he has, are in his throat, yet he has so 
tender a mouth that he is oftener lost after an 
angler has hooked him than any other fish. 
Though there be many of these fishes in the deli- 
cate river Dove and in Trent, and some other 
smaller rivers, as that which runs by Salisbury, yet 
he is not so general a fish as the trout, nor to me 
so good to eat or to angle for. And so I shall 
take my leave of him, and now come to some 
observations of the salmon and how to catch 
him. 



t\)t jfourtl) SDap, 

CHAPTER VII. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE SALMON, WITH DIRECTIONS 
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. 

piSCATOR. The salmon is accounted the 
king of fresh- water fish, and is ever bred in 
rivers relating to the sea, yet so high or far from it 
as admits of no tincture of salt or brackishness. 
He is said to breed or cast his spawn in most 
rivers in the month of August ; some say that 
then they dig a hole or grave in a safe place in 
the gravel, and there place their eggs or spawn 
after the melter has done his natural office, and 
then hide it most cunningly, and cover it over 
with gravel and stones, and then leave it to their 
Creator's protection, who by a gentle heat which 
He infuses into that cold element makes it brood 
and beget life in the spawn, and to become sam- 
lets early in the spring next following. 

The salmons having spent their appointed time 
and done this natural duty in the fresh waters, 
they then haste to the sea before winter, both the 
melter and spawner. But if they be stopped by 
flood-gates or weirs, or lost in the fresh waters, 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 65 

then those so left behind by degrees grow sick 
and lean and unseasonable and kipper, — that is 
to say, have bony gristles grow out of their lower 
chaps, not unlike a hawk's beak, which hinders 
their feeding, and in time such fish so left behind 
pine away and die. It is observed that he may 
live thus one year from the sea ; but he then grows 
insipid and tasteless, and loses both his blood and 
strength, and pines and dies the second year. 
And it is noted that those little salmons called 
skeggers, which abound in many rivers relating to 
the sea, are bred by such sick salmons that might 
not go to the sea, and that though they abound, 
yet they never thrive to any considerable bigness. 
But if the old salmon gets to the sea, then that 
gristle which shows him to be a kipper wears away 
or is cast off, as the eagle is said to cast his bill, 
and he recovers his strength and comes next sum- 
mer to the same river, if it be possible, to enjoy the 
former pleasures that there possessed him ; for as 
one has wittily observed, he has, like some per- 
sons of honor and riches, which have both their 
winter and summer houses, the fresh rivers for 
summer and the salt water for winter, to spend his 
life in, — which is not, as Sir Francis Bacon hath 
observed in his " History of Life and Death," 
above ten years. And it is to be observed that 
though the salmon does grow big in the sea, yet 
he grows not fat but in fresh rivers ; and it is ob- 
served that the farther they get from the sea, they 
be both the fatter and better. 



1 66 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Next I shall tell you that though they make 
very hard shift to get out of the fresh rivers into 
the sea, yet they will make harder shift to get out 
of the salt into the fresh rivers, to spawn or possess 
the pleasures that they have formerly found in them, 
to which end they will force themselves through 
flood-gates or over weirs or hedges or stops in 
the water, even to a height beyond common be- 
lief. Gesner speaks of such places as are known 
to be above eight feet high above water. And 
our Camden mentions in his " Britannia " the like 
wonder to be in Pembrokeshire, where the river 
Tivy falls into the sea ; and that the fall is so down- 
right and so high that the people stand and won- 
der at the strength and sleight by which they see 
the salmon use to get out of the sea into the said 
river ; and the manner and height of the place is so 
notable that it is known far by the name of the 
salmon-leap. Concerning which take this also out 
of Michael Drayton, my honest old friend, as he 
tells it you in his " Polyolbion " : — 

ft And when the salmon seeks a fresher stream to find, 
Which hither from the sea comes yearly by his kind, 
As he towards season grows, and stems the watery tract 
Where Tivy, falling down, makes an high cataract, 
Forced by the rising rocks that there her course oppose, 
As though within her bounds they meant her to inclose, 
Here, when the laboring fish does at the foot arrive, 
And finds that by his strength he does but vainly strive, 
His tail takes in his mouth, and bending like a bow 
That 's to full compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw, 
Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand 
That, bended end to end, and started from man's hand, 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 67 

Far off itself doth cast, so does the salmon vault ; 
And if at first he fail, his second summersault 
He instantly essays, and, from his nimble ring 
Still yerking, never leaves until himself he fling 
Above the opposing stream." 

This Michael Drayton tells you of this leap or 
summersault of the salmon. 

And next I shall tell you that it is observed by 
Gesner and others that there is no better salmon 
than in England ; and that though some of our 
northern counties have as fat and as large as the 
river Thames, yet none are of so excellent a taste. 

And as I have told you that Sir Francis Bacon 
observes the age of a salmon exceeds not ten 
years, so let me next tell you that his growth is 
very sudden. It is said that after he is got into 
the sea he becomes from a samlet not so big as a 
gudgeon to be a salmon in as short a time as a 
gosling becomes to be a goose. Much of this has 
been observed by tying a ribbon or some known 
tape or thread in the tail of some young salmons, 
which have been taken in weirs as they have 
swimmed towards the salt water, and then by tak- 
ing a part of them again with the known mark at 
the same place, at their return from the sea, which 
is usually about six months after. And the like 
experiment hath been tried upon young swallows, 
who have after six months' absence been observed 
to return to the same chimney, there to make 
their nests and habitations for the summer follow- 
ing ; which has inclined many to think that every 



1 68 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

salmon usually returns to the same river in which 
it was bred, as young pigeons taken out of the 
same dove-cote have also been observed to do. 

And you are yet to observe further that the he- 
salmon is usually bigger than the spawner, and 
that he is more kipper and less able to endure a 
winter in the fresh water than she is ; yet she is at 
that time of looking less kipper and better, as 
watery and as bad meat. 

And yet you are to observe that as there is no 
general rule without an exception, so there are 
some few rivers in this nation that have trouts and 
salmons in season in winter, as it is certain there 
be in the river Wye in Monmouthshire, where they 
be in season, as Camden observes, from September 
till April. But, my scholar, the observation of 
this and many other things I must in manners 
omit, because they will prove too large for our 
narrow compass of time ; and therefore I shall 
next fall upon my directions how to fish for this 
salmon. 

And for that : first, you shall observe that usually 
he stays not long in a place, as trouts will, but, as 
I said, covets still to go nearer the spring-head ; 
and that he does not, as the trout and many 
other fish, lie near the water-side or bank, or roots 
of trees, but swims in the deep and broad parts of 
the water, and usually in the middle and near the 
ground, and that there you are to fish for him, and 
that he is to be caught as the trout is with a worm, 
a minnow, which some call a penk, or with a fly. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 69 

And you are to observe that he is very seldom 
observed to bite at a minnow, yet sometimes he 
will, and not usually at a fly, but more usually at a 
worm, and then most usually at a lob or garden 
worm, which should be well scoured, — that is to 
say, kept seven or eight days in moss before you 
fish with them ; and if you double your time of 
eight into sixteen, twenty, or more days, it is still 
the better, for the worms will still be clearer, 
tougher, and more lively, and continue so longer 
upon your hook. And they may be kept still 
longer by keeping them cool and in fresh moss ; 
and some advise to put camphor into it. 

Note, also, that many use to fish for a salmon 
with a ring of wire on the top of their rod, through 
which the line may run to as great a length as 
is needful when he is hooked. And to that end 
some use a wheel about the middle of their rod or 
near their hand, which is to be observed better by 
seeing one of them than by a large demonstration 
of words. 

And now I shall tell you that which may be 
called a secret. I have been a-fishing with old 
Oliver Henly, now with God, a noted fisher both 
for trout and salmon, and have observed that he 
would usually take three or four worms out of his 
bag and put them into a little box in his pocket, 
where he would usually let them continue half an 
hour or more before he would bait his hook with 
them. I have asked him his reason, and he has 
replied, " He did but pick the best out, to be in 



17O THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

readiness against he baited his hook the next 
time ; " but he has been observed, both by others 
and myself, to catch more fish than I or any other 
body that has ever gone a-fishing with him could 
do, and especially salmons. And I have been told 
lately, by one of his most intimate and secret 
friends, that the box in which he put those worms 
was anointed with a drop or two or three of the 
oil of ivy-berries, made by expression or infusion, 
and told that by the worms remaining in that box 
an hour or a like time, they had incorporated a 
kind of smell that was irresistibly attractive, enough 
to force any fish within the smell of them to bite. 
This I heard not long since from a friend, but 
have not tried it ; yet I grant it probable, and 
refer my reader to Sir Francis Bacon's " Natural 
History," where he proves fishes may hear, and 
doubtless can more probably smell. And I am 
certain Gesner says the otter can smell in the 
water, and I doubt not but that fish may do so 
too. It is left for a lover of angling, or any that 
desires to improve that art, to try this conclusion. 

I shall also impart two other experiments, but 
not tried by myself, which I will deliver in the 
same words that they were given me by an ex- 
cellent angler and a very friend in writing. He 
told me the latter was too good to be told but 
in a learned language, lest it should be made 
common. 

" Take the stinking oil drawn out of polypody 
of the oak by a retort, mixed with turpentine and 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 171 

hive-honey, and anoint your bait therewith, and it 
will doubtless draw the fish to it." 

The other is this : " Vulnera hederae grandis- 
simse inflicta sudant balsamum oleo gelato, albi- 
cantique persimile, odoris vero longe suavissimi." 1 

'T is supremely sweet to any fish, and yet assa- 
fcetida may do the like. 

But in these things I have no great faith, yet 
grant it probable, and have had from some chemi- 
cal men, namely, from Sir George Hastings and 
others, an affirmation of them to be very advan- 
tageous. But no more of these, especially not in 
this place. 

I might here, before I take my leave of the 
salmon, tell you that there is more than one sort of 
them, as namely a tecon, and another called in 
some places a samlet, or by some a skegger. But 
these, and others which I forbear to name, may be 
fish of another kind, and differ as we know a her- 
ring and a pilchard do ; which I think are as dif- 
ferent as the rivers in which they breed, and must 
by me be left to the disquisitions of men of more 
leisure and of greater abilities than I profess my- 
self to have. 

And lastly, I am to borrow so much of your 
promised patience as to tell you that the trout or 
salmon, being in season, have, at their first taking 
out of the water, which continues during life, their 
bodies adorned, the one with such red spots and 

1 " Slit the largest branches of an ivy tree, and it will yield 
an oleaginous balsam, white in color and of a pleasing odor." 



172 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

the other with such black or blackish spots as 
give them such an addition of natural beauty as I 
think was never given to any woman by the artifi- 
cial paint or patches in which they so much pride 
themselves in this age. And so I shall leave them 
both, and proceed to some observations on the 
pike. 



£\)t jfourtf) 2Da^* 

CHAPTER VIII. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE LUCE, OR PIKE, WITH 
DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. 

DISCA TOR. The mighty luce, or pike, is taken 
to be the tyrant, as the salmon is the king, of 
the fresh waters. 'T is not to be doubted but 
that they are bred some by generation and some 
not, — as namely of a weed called pickerel-weed, 
unless learned Gesner be much mistaken ; for he 
says this weed and other glutinous matter, with 
the help of the sun's heat in some particular 
months, and some ponds adapted for it by nature, 
do become pikes. But, doubtless, divers pikes 
are bred after this manner, or are brought into 
some ponds some such other ways as are past 
man's finding out, of which we have daily 
testimonies. 

Sir Francis Bacon, in his " History of Life and 
Death," observes the pike to be the longest-lived 
of any fresh-water fish, and yet he computes it to 
be not usually above forty years, and others think 
it to be not above ten years ; and yet Gesner men- 
tions a pike taken in Swedeland in the year 1449, 
with a ring about his neck declaring he was put 



1/4 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

into that pond by Frederick the Second, more 
than two hundred years before he was last taken, 
as by the inscription in that ring, being Greek, 
was interpreted by the then Bishop of Worms. 
But of this no more, but that it was observed that 
the old or very great pikes have in them more of 
state than goodness, the smaller or middle-sized 
pikes being by the most and choicest palates ob- 
served to be the best meat ; and, contrary, the 
eel is observed to be the better for age and 
bigness. 

All pikes that live long prove chargeable to their 
keepers, because their life is maintained by the 
death of so many other fish, even those of their 
own kind ; which has made him by some writers 
to be called the tyrant of the rivers, or the fresh- 
water wolf, by reason of his bold, greedy, devour- 
ing disposition, which is so keen that, as Gesner 
relates, a man going to a pond, where it seems a 
pike had devoured all the fish, to water his mule, 
had a pike bite his mule by the lips, to which the 
pike hung so fast that the mule drew him out of the 
water, and by that accident the owner of the mule 
angled out the pike. And the same Gesner ob- 
serves that a maid in Poland had a pike bite her by 
the foot as she was washing clothes in a pond. And 
I have heard the like of a woman in Killingworth 
pond, not far from Coventry. But I have been 
assured by my friend Mr. Seagrave, of whom I 
spake to you formerly, that keeps tame otters, that 
he hath known a pike, in extreme hunger, fight 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 75 

with one of his otters for a carp that the otter had 
caught, and was then bringing out of the water. 
I have told you who relate these things, and tell 
you they are persons of credit, and shall conclude 
this observation by telling you what a wise man 
has observed, "It is a hard thing to persuade the 
belly, because it has no ears." 

But if these relations be disbelieved, it is too 
evident to be doubted that a pike will devour a fish 
of his own kind that shall be bigger than his belly 
or throat will receive, and swallow a part of him, 
and let the other part remain in his mouth till the 
swallowed part be digested, and then swallow that 
other part that was in his mouth, and so put it 
over by degrees ; which is not unlike the ox and 
some other beasts taking their meat, not out of 
their mouth immediately into their belly, but first 
into some place betwixt, and then chew it or 
digest it by degrees after, which is called chewing 
the cud. And doubtless pikes will bite when they 
are not hungry, but, as some think, even for very 
anger, when a tempting bait comes near to them. 

And it is observed that the pike will eat veno- 
mous things, as some kind of frogs are, and yet 
live without being harmed by them ; for, as some 
say, he has in him a natural balsam or antidote 
against all poison. And he has a strange heat, 
that though it appears to us to be cold, can yet 
digest or put over any fish-flesh by degrees without 
being sick. And others observe that he never 
eats the venomous frog till he have first killed her, 



176 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

and then, as ducks are observed to do to frogs in 
spawning time, at which time some frogs are ob- 
served to be venomous, so thoroughly washed her, 
by tumbling her up and down in the water, that 
he may devour her without danger. And Gesner 
affirms that a Polonian gentleman did faithfully 
assure him he had seen two young geese at one 
time in the belly of a pike. And doubtless a pike 
in his height of hunger will bite at and devour a 
dog that swims in a pond ; and there have been ex- 
amples of it, or the like, — for, as I told you, " The 
belly has no ears when hunger comes upon it." 

The pike is also observed to be a solitary, melan- 
choly, and a bold fish ; melancholy, because he al- 
ways swims or rests himself alone, and never swims 
in shoals or with company, as roach and dace 
and most other fish do ; and bold, because he 
fears not a shadow, or to see or be seen of any- 
body, as the trout and chub and all other fish do. 

And it is observed by Gesner that the jaw-bones 
and hearts and galls of pikes are very medicinable 
for several diseases, or to stop blood, or abate 
fevers, to cure agues, to oppose or expel the in- 
fection of the plague, and to be many ways medi- 
cinable and useful for the good of mankind. But 
he observes that the biting of a pike is venomous 
and hard to be cured. 

And it is observed that the pike is a fish that 
breeds but once a year, and that other fish, as 
namely loaches, do breed oftener, as we are cer- 
tain tame pigeons do almost every month ; and 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. IJJ 

yet the hawk, a bird of prey, as the pike is a fish, 
breeds but once in twelve months. And you are 
to note that his time of breeding or spawning is 
usually about the end of February or somewhat 
later in March, as the weather proves colder or 
warmer ; and to note that his manner of breed- 
ing is thus : a he and she pike will usually go to- 
gether out of a river into some ditch or creek, 
and that there the spawner casts her eggs, and 
the melter hovers over her all that time she is 
casting her spawn, but touches her not. 

I might say more of this, but it might be thought 
curiosity or worse, and shall therefore forbear it, 
and take up so much of your attention as to tell 
you that the best of pikes are noted to be in 
rivers ; next, those in great ponds or meres, and 
the worst in small ponds. 

But before I proceed further I am to tell you 
that there is a great antipathy betwixt the pike 
and some frogs. And this may appear to the 
reader of Dubravius, a bishop in Bohemia, who in 
his book " Of Fish and Fish-ponds," relates what 
he says he saw with his own eyes, and could not 
forbear to tell the reader ; which was : — 

" As he and the Bishop Thurzo were walking 
by a large pond in Bohemia, they saw a frog, when 
the pike lay very sleepily and quiet by the shore 
side, leap upon his head ; and the frog, having ex- 
pressed malice or anger by his swollen cheeks and 
staring eyes, did stretch out his legs and em- 
braced the pike's head, and presently reached 

12 



178 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

them to his eyes, tearing with them and his teetb 
those tender parts. The pike, moved with an- 
guish, moves up and down the water, and rubs 
himself against weeds, and whatever he thought 
might quit him of his enemy, but all in vain, for 
the frog did continue to ride triumphantly, and to 
bite and torment the pike, till his strength failed, 
and then the frog sunk with the pike to the bot- 
tom of the water. Then presently the frog ap- 
peared again at the top and croaked, and seemed 
to rejoice like a conqueror, after which he pres- 
ently retired to his secret hole. The bishop that 
had beheld the battle called his fisherman to fetch 
his nets, and by all means to get the pike, that 
they might declare what had happened. And the 
pike was drawn forth, and both his eyes eaten out ; 
at which when they began to wonder, the fisher- 
man wished them to forbear, and assured them he 
was certain that pikes were often so served." 

I told this, which is to be read in the sixth 
chapter of the first book of Dubravius, unto a 
friend, who replied, " It was as improbable as to 
have the mouse scratch out the cat's eyes." But 
he did not consider that there be fishing-frogs, 
which the Dalmatians call the water-devil, of 
which I might tell you as wonderful a story. But 
I shall tell you that 't is not to be doubted but 
that there be some frogs so fearful of the water- 
snake that when they swim in a place in which 
they fear to meet with him, they then get a reed 
across into their mouths, which if they two meet 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 79 

by accident, secures the frog from the strength 
and malice of the snake ; and note that the frog 
usually swims the fastest of the two. 

And let me tell you that as there be water and 
land frogs, so there be land and water snakes. 
Concerning which, take this observation, — that 
the land-snake breeds and hatches her eggs, which 
become young snakes, in some old dunghill or a 
like hot place ; but the water-snake, which is not 
venomous, and, as I have been assured by a great 
observer of such secrets, does not hatch but breed 
her young alive, — which she does not then for- 
sake, but bides with them, and in case of danger 
will take them all into her mouth and swim away 
from any apprehended danger, and then let them 
out again when she thinks all danger to be past. 
These be accidents that we anglers sometimes see 
and often talk of. 

But whither am I going? I had almost lost 
myself by remembering the Discourse of Dubra- 
vius. I will therefore stop here, and tell you ac- 
cording to my promise how to catch this pike. 

His feeding is usually of fish or frogs, and some- 
times a weed of his own called pickerel-weed. Of 
which, I told you,, some think some pikes are bred ; 
for they have observed that where none have been 
put into ponds, yet they have there found many ; 
and that there has been plenty of that weed in 
those ponds, and that that weed both breeds and 
feeds them ; but whether those pikes so bred will 
ever breed by generation as the others do, I shall 



ISO THE COMPLETE AXGLER. 

leave to the disquisition of men of more curiosity 
and leisure than I profess myself to have j and 
shall proceed to tell you that you may fish for 
pike either with a ledger or a walking bait. And 
you are to note that I call that a ledger-bait 
which is fixed or made to rest in one certain place 
when you shall be absent from it ; and I call that 
a walking-bait which you take with you and have 
ever in motion. Concerning which two I shall 
give you this direction, — that your ledger-bait is 
best to be a living bait, though a dead one may 
catch, whether it be a fish or a frog ; and that you 
may make them live the longer, you may, or in- 
deed you must, take this course. 

First, for your live bait. Of a fish, a roach or 
dace is, I think, best and most tempting, and a 
perch is the longest lived on a hook ; and having 
cut off his fin on his back, which may be done 
without hurting him, you must take your knife, 
which cannot be too sharp, and betwixt the head 
and the fin on the back, cut or make an incision, 
or such a scar as you may put the arming wire of 
your hook into it, with as little bruising or hurting 
the fish as art and diligence will enable you to do ; 
and so carrying your arming-wire along his 
back, unto or near the tail of your fish, betwixt 
the skin and the body of it, draw out that wire or 
arming of your hook at another scar near to his 
tail, then tie him about it with thread, but no 
harder than of necessity to prevent hurting the 
fish ; and the better to avoid hurting the fish, 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. l8l 

some have a kind of probe to open the way for 
the more easy entrance and passage of your wire 
or arming j but as for these, time and a little ex- 
perience will teach you better than I can by 
words. Therefore I will for the present say no 
more of this, but come next to give you some 
directions how to bait your hook with a frog. 

Ven. But, good master, did you not say even 
now, that some frogs were venomous, and is it not 
dangerous to touch them? 

Pise, Yes, but I will give you some rules or 
cautions concerning them. And first you are to 
note that there are two kinds of frogs ; that is to 
say, if I may so express myself, a flesh and a fish 
frog. By flesh- frogs I mean frogs that breed and 
live on the land ; and of these there be several 
sorts also, and of several colors, some being 
speckled, some greenish, some blackish or brown. 
The green frog, which is a small one, is by Topsell 
taken to be venomous ; and so is the padock or 
frog-padock, which usually keeps or breeds on the 
land, and is very large and bony and big, espe- 
cially the she-frog of that kind. Yet these will 
sometimes come into the water, but it is not often. 
And the land frogs are some of them observed 
by him to breed by laying eggs ; and others to 
breed of the slime and dust of the earth, and that 
in winter they turn to slime again, and that the 
next summer that very slime returns to be a living 
creature. This is the opinion of Pliny. And 
Cardanus undertakes to give a reason for the rain- 



1 82 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

ing of frogs ; but if it were in my power, it should 
rain none but water-frogs, for those I think are 
not venomous, especially the right water-frog, 
which about February or March breeds in ditches 
by slime, and blackish eggs in that slime. About 
which time of breeding the he and she frogs are 
observed to use divers summersaults, and to croak 
and make a noise, which the land-frog or padock- 
frog never does. Now, of these water-frogs, if 
you intend to fish with a frog for a pike, you are to 
choose the yellowest that you can get, for that the 
pike ever likes best ; and thus use your frog that 
he may continue long alive. 

Put your hook into his mouth, which you may 
easily do from the middle of April till August, and 
then the frog's mouth grows up, and he continues 
so for at least six months without eating, but is 
sustained none but He whose Name is Wonder- 
ful knows how : I say, put your hook, I mean the 
arming-wire, through his mouth and out at his 
gills, and then with a fine needle and silk sew the 
upper part of his leg with only one stitch to the 
arming-wire of your hook, or tie the frog's leg 
above the upper joint to the armed wire ; and in 
so doing use him as though you loved him, that 
is, harm him as little as you may possibly, that he 
may live the longer. 

And now having given you this direction for the 
baiting your ledger-hook with a live fish or frog, 
my next must be to tell you how your hook thus 
baited must or may be used, and it is thus : Hav- 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 83 

ing fastened your hook to a line, which if it be 
not fourteen yards long should not be less than 
twelve, you are to fasten that line to any bough 
near to a hole where a pike is, or is likely to lie 
or to have a haunt, and then wind your line on 
any forked stick, all your line, except half a yard 
of it, or rather more, and split that forked stick 
with such a nick or notch at one end of it as may 
keep the line from any more of it ravelling from 
about the stick than so much of it as you intend. 
And choose your forked stick to be of that big- 
ness as may keep the fish or frog from pulling the 
forked stick under the water till the pike bites, 
and then the pike having pulled the line forth of 
the cleft or nick of that stick in which it was 
gently fastened, he will have line enough to go to 
his hold and pouch the bait. And if you would 
have this ledger-bait to keep at a fixed place, un- 
disturbed by wind or other accidents, which may 
drive it to the shore-side, — for you are to note that 
it is likeliest to catch a pike in the midst of the 
water, — then hang a small plummet of lead, a 
stone, or piece of tile, or a turf, in a string, and 
cast it into the water with the forked stick, to hang 
upon the ground, to be a kind of anchor to keep 
the forked stick from moving out of your intended 
place till the pike come. This I take to be a very 
good way to use so many ledger-baits as you in- 
tend to make trial of. 

Or if you bait your hooks thus with live fish or 
frogs, and in a windy day fasten them thus to a 



1 84 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

bough or bundle of straw, and by the help of that 
wind can get them to move across a pond or 
mere, you are like to stand still on the shore and 
see sport presently if there be any store of pikes ; 
or these live baits may make sport being tied 
about the body or wings of a goose or duck, and 
she chased over a pond. And the like may be 
done with turning three or four live baits thus 
fastened to bladders, or boughs, or bottles of hay, 
or flags, to swim down a river whilst you walk 
quietly alone on the shore and are still in expecta- 
tion of sport. The rest must be taught you by 
practice, for time will not allow me to say more of 
this kind of fishing with live baits. 

And for your dead bait for a pike, for that you 
may be taught by one day's going a-fishing with me, 
or any other body that fishes for him ; for the bait- 
ing your hook with a dead gudgeon or a roach, 
and moving it up and down the water, is too easy 
a thing to take up any time to direct you to do it ; 
and yet because I cut you short in that, I will 
commute for it by telling you that that was told 
me for a secret. It is this : — 

Dissolve gum of ivy in oil of spike, and there- 
with anoint your dead bait for a pike ; and then 
cast it into a likely place, and when it has lain a 
short time at the bottom, draw it towards the top 
of the water and so up the stream : and it is more 
than likely that you have a pike follow with more 
than common eagerness. 

And some affirm that any bait anointed with the 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 85 

marrow of the thigh-bone of an heron is a great 
temptation to any fish. 

These have not been tried by me, but told me 
by a friend of note that pretended to do me a 
courtesy. But if this direction to catch a pike thus 
do you no good, yet I am certain this direction 
how to roast him when he is caught is choicely 
good, for I have tried it ; and it is somewhat the 
better for not being common : but with my direc- 
tion you must take this caution, — that your pike 
must not be a small one ; that is, it must be more 
than half a yard, and should be bigger. 

First, open your pike at the gills, and, if need 
be, cut also a little slit towards the belly. Out of 
these take his guts, and keep his liver, which you 
are to shred very small with thyme, sweet mar- 
joram, and a little winter-savory ; to these put 
some pickled oysters, and some anchovies, two or 
three, — both these last whole, for the anchovies 
will melt, and the oysters should not; to these 
you must add also a pound of sweet butter, which 
you are to mix with the herbs that are shred, and 
let them all be well salted. If the pike be more 
than a yard long, then you may put into these 
herbs more than a pound, or if he be less, then 
less butter will suffice. These being thus mixed, 
with a blade or two of mace, must be put into the 
pike's belly, and then his belly so sewed up as to 
keep all the butter in his belly if it be possible ; if 
not, then as much of it as you possibly can : but 
take not off the scales. Then you are to thrust 



1 86 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

the spit through his mouth, out at his tail ; and 
then take four or five or six split sticks or very 
thin laths, and a convenient quantity of tape or 
filleting ; these laths are to be tied round about 
the pike's body from his head to his tail, and the 
tape tied somewhat thick to prevent his breaking 
or falling off from the spit. Let him be roasted 
very leisurely, and often basted with claret wine 
and anchovies and butter, mixed together ; and 
also with what moisture falls from him into the 
pan. When you have roasted him sufficiently, you 
are to hold under him, when you unwind or cut 
the tape that ties him, such a dish as you purpose 
to eat him out off; and let him fall into it with 
the sauce that is roasted in his belly ; and by this 
means the pike will be kept unbroken and com- 
plete. Then, to the sauce which was within, and 
also that sauce in the pan, you are to add a fit 
quantity of the best butter, and to squeeze the 
juice of three or four oranges : lastly, you may 
either put into the pike with the oysters two 
cloves of garlic, and take it whole out, when the 
pike is cut off the spit ; or to give the sauce a 
haut-gout, let the dish into which you let the pike 
fall be rubbed with it : the using or not using of 
this garlic is left to your discretion. M. B. 

This dish of meat is too good for any but an- 
glers, or very honest men ; and I trust you will 
prove both, and therefore I have trusted you with 
this secret. 

Let me next tell you that Gesner tells us there 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 87 

are no pikes in Spain, and that the largest are in 
the lake Thrasymene in Italy ; and the next, if not 
equal to them, are the pikes of England ; and 
that in England Lincolnshire boasteth to have the 
biggest. Just so doth Sussex boast of four sorts 
of fish ; namely, an Arundel mullet, a Chichester 
lobster, Shelsey cockle, and an Amerly trout. 

But I will take up no more of your time with 
this relation, but proceed to give you some obser- 
vations of the carp, and how to angle for him, and 
to dress him, — but not till he is caught. 



t\)t JFourtlj HDa£* 

CHAPTER IX. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE CARP, WITH DIRECTIONS 
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. 

piSCA TOR. The carp is the queen of rivers, — 
a stately, a good, and a very subtle fish, that was 
not at first bred, nor hath been long, in England, 
but is now naturalized. It is said they were 
brought hither by one Mr, Mascal, a gentleman 
that then lived at Plumsted in Sussex, a county 
that abounds more with this fish than any in this 
nation. 

You may remember that I told you Gesner 
says there are no pikes in Spain ; and doubtless 
there was a time, about a hundred or a few more 
years ago, when there were no carps in England, 
as may seem to be affirmed by Sir Richard Baker, 
in whose chronicle you may find these verses : — 

" Hops and turkeys, carps and beer, 
Came into England all in a year." 

And doubtless, as of sea-fish the herring dies 
soonest out of the water, and of fresh-water fish 
the trout, so, except the eel, the carp endures 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 89 

most hardness, and lives longest out of his own 
proper element ; and therefore the report of the 
carp's being brought out of a foreign country into 
this nation is the more probable. 

Carps and loaches are observed to breed several 
months in one year, which pikes and most other 
fish do not. And this is partly proved by tame 
and wild rabbits, as also by some ducks, which 
will lay eggs nine of the twelve months ; and yet 
there be other ducks that lay not longer than 
about one month. And it is the rather to be 
believed, because you shall scarce or never take a 
male carp without a melt, or a female without 
a roe or spawn, and for the most part very 
much, and especially all the summer season; 
and it is observed that they breed more natu- 
rally in ponds than in running waters, if they 
breed there at all ; and that those that live in 
rivers are taken by men of the best palates to be 
much the better meat. 

And it is observed that in some ponds carps 
will not breed, especially in cold ponds ; but 
where they will breed they breed innumerably : 
Aristotle and Pliny say six times in a year, if there 
be no pikes nor perch to devour their spawn when 
it is cast upon grass or flags or weeds, where it 
lies ten or twelve days before it be enlivened. 

The carp, if he have water-room and good feed, 
will grow to a very great bigness and length ; I 
have heard to be much above a yard long. 'T is 
said by Jovius, who hath writ of fishes, that in the 



190 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

lake Lurian in Italy carps have thriven to be more 
than fifty pounds' weight ; which is the more prob- 
able, for as the bear is conceived and born sud- 
denly, and being born is but short-lived, so, on 
the contrary, the elephant is said to be two years 
in his dam's belly, some think he is ten years in 
it, and being born grows in bigness twenty years ; 
and 't is observed too that he lives to the age of a 
hundred years. And 't is also observed that the 
crocodile is very long-lived, and more than that, that 
all that long life he thrives in bigness ; and so I 
think some carps do, especially in some places ; 
though I never saw one above twenty-three inches, 
which was a great and goodly fish ; but have been 
assured there are of a far greater size, and in Eng- 
land too. 

Now, as the increase of carps is wonderful for 
their number, so there is not a reason found out, 
I think by any, why they should breed in some 
ponds and not in others of the same nature for 
soil and all other circumstances. And as their 
breeding, so are their decays also very mysterious. 
I have both read it, and been told by a gentle- 
man of tried honesty, that he has known sixty or 
more large carps put into several ponds near to a 
house, where by reason of the stakes in the ponds, 
and the owner's constant being near to them, it 
was impossible they should be stolen away from 
him ; and that when he has after three or four 
years emptied the pond, and expected an increase 
from them by breeding young ones, — for that 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 191 

they might do so, he had, as the rule is, put in 
three melters for one spawner, — he has, I say, 
after three or four years, found neither a young 
nor old carp remaining. And the like I have 
known of one that has almost watched the pond, 
and at a like distance of time, at the fishing of a 
pond, found of seventy or eighty large carps not 
above five or six ; and that he had forborne longer 
to fish the said pond, but that he saw, in a hot 
day in summer, a large carp swim near the top of 
the water with a frog upon his head ; and that he 
upon that occasion caused his pond to be let dry : 
and I say, of seventy or eighty carps, only found 
five or six in the said pond, and those very sick 
and lean, and with every one a frog sticking so 
fast on the head of the said carps that the frog 
would not be got off without extreme force or 
killing. And the gentleman that did affirm this to 
me told me he saw it ; and did declare his belief 
to be, and I also believe the same, that he thought 
the other carps that were so strangely lost were 
so killed by frogs, and then devoured. 

And a person of honor now living in Worces- 
tershire assured me he had seen a necklace or 
collar of tadpoles hang like a chain or necklace 
of beads about a pike's neck, and to kill him, — 
whether it were for meat or malice must be to me 
a question. 

But I am fallen into this discourse by accident, 
of which I might say more, but it has proved 
longer than I intended, and possibly may not to 



192 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

you be considerable. I shall therefore give you 
three or four more short observations of the carp, 
and then fall upon some directions how you shall 
fish for him. 

The age of carps is by Sir Francis Bacon, in his 
"History of Life and Death," observed to be but 
ten years, yet others think they live longer. Gesner 
says a carp has been known to live in the Palati- 
nate above a hundred years ; but most conclude 
that, contrary to the pike or luce, all carps are the 
better for age and bigness. The tongues of carps 
are noted to be choice and costly meat, especially 
to them that buy them : but Gesner says carps 
have no tongue like other fish, but a piece of 
flesh-like fish in their mouth like to a tongue, and 
should be called a palate ; but it is certain it is 
choicely good, and that the carp is to be reck- 
oned amongst those leather-mouthed fish which I 
told you have their teeth in their throat ; and for 
that reason he is very seldom lost by breaking his 
hold if your hook be once stuck into his chaps. 

I told you that Sir Francis Bacon thinks that 
the carp lives but ten years ; but Janus Dubravius 
has writ a book, " Of Fish and Fish-ponds," in 
which he says that carps begin to spawn at the age 
of three years, and continue to do so till thirty. 
He says also that in the time of their breeding, 
which is in summer, when the sun hath warmed 
both the earth and water, and so apted them also 
for generation that then three or four male carps 
will follow a female, and that then, she putting on 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 93 

a seeming coyness, they force her through weeds 
and flags, where she lets fall her eggs or spawn, 
which sticks fast to the weeds, and then they let 
fall their melt upon it, and so it becomes in a 
short time to be a living fish ; and, as I told you, 
it is thought the carp does this several months in 
the year ; and most believe that most fish breed 
after this manner, except the eel. And it has been 
observed that when the spawner has weakened 
herself by doing that natural office, that two or 
three melters have helped her from off the weeds 
by bearing her up on both sides and guarding her 
into the deep. And you may note that though 
this may seem a curiosity not worth observing, yet 
others have judged it worth their time and costs 
to make glass hives, and order them in such a 
manner as to see how bees have bred and make 
their honeycombs, and how they have obeyed 
their king and governed their commonwealth. 
But it is thought that all carps are not bred by 
generation, but that some breed other ways, as 
some pikes do. 

The physicians make the galls and stones in the 
heads of carps to be very medicinable. But 't is 
not to be doubted but that in Italy they make 
great profit of the spawn of carps by selling it to 
the Jews, who make it into red caviare, the Jews 
not being by their law admitted to eat of caviare 
made of the sturgeon, that being a fish that wants 
scales, and, as may appear in Levit. xi. 10, by 
them reputed to be unclean. 
13 



194 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Much more might be said out of him and out 
of Aristotle, which Dubravius often quotes in his 
" Discourse of Fishes ; " but it might rather per- 
plex than satisfy you, and therefore I shall rather 
choose to direct you how to catch than spend 
more time in discoursing either of the nature or 
the breeding of this carp, or of any more circum- 
stances concerning him ; but yet I shall remember 
you of what I told you before, that he is a very 
subtle fish and hard to be caught. 

And my first direction is, that if you will fish for 
a carp, you must put on a very large measure of 
patience, especially to fish for a river carp. I 
have known a very good fisher angle diligently 
four or six hours in a day, for three or four days 
together, for a river carp and not have a bite. 
And you are to note that in some ponds it is as 
hard to catch a carp as in a river ; that is to say, 
where they have store of feed, and the water is 
of a clayish color ; but you are to remember that I 
have told you there is no rule without an excep- 
tion ; and therefore being possessed with that hope 
and patience which I wish to all fishers, espe- 
cially to the carp-angler, I shall tell you with what 
bait to fish for him. But first you are to know 
that it must be either early or late ; and let me 
tell you that in hot weather, for he will seldom 
bite in cold, you cannot be too early or too late 
at it. And some have been so curious as to say 
the tenth of April is a fatal day for carps. 

The carp bites either at worms or at paste ; 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 195 

and of worms I think the bluish marsh or meadow 
worm is best ; but possibly another worm, not 
too big, may do as well, and so may a green gen- 
tle. And as for pastes, there are almost as many 
sorts as there are medicines for the toothache; 
but doubtless sweet pastes are best, — I mean 
pastes made with honey or with sugar, — which, 
that you may the better beguile this crafty fish, 
should be thrown into the pond or place in which 
you fish for him some hours or longer before you 
undertake your trial of skill with the angle-rod ; 
and doubtless, if it be thrown into the water a day 
or two before, at several times and in small pellets, 
you are the likelier when you fish for the carp to 
obtain your desired sport. Or in a large pond, to 
draw them to any certain place, that they may the 
better and with more hope be fished for, you are 
to throw into it, in some certain place, either 
grains or blood mixed with cow-dung or with 
bran ; or any garbage, as chicken's guts or the 
like ; and then some of your small sweet pellets 
with which you purpose to angle ; and these small 
pellets being a few of them also thrown in as you 
are angling, will be the better. 

And your paste must be thus made : Take the 
flesh of a rabbit or cat cut small, and bean-flour ; 
and if that may not be easily got, get other flour, 
and then mix these together, and put to them either 
sugar or honey, which I think better ; and then 
beat these together in a mortar, or sometimes 
work them in your hands, your hands being very 



I96 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

clean, and then make it into a ball, or two, or 
three, as you like best for your use ; but you must 
work or pound it so long in the mortar as to make 
it so tough as to hang upon your hook without 
washing from it, yet not too hard. Or that you 
may the better keep it on your hook, you may 
knead with your paste a little, and not much, 
white or yellowish wool. 

And if you would have this paste keep all the 
year for any other fish, then mix with it virgin-wax 
and clarified honey, and work them together with 
your hands before the fire ; then make these into 
balls, and they will keep all the year. 

And if you fish for a carp with gentles, then 
put upon your hook a small piece of scarlet about 
this bigness , it being soaked in, or anointed 

with oil of peter, called by some oil of the rock ; 
and if your gentles be put two or three days be- 
fore into a box or horn anointed with honey, and 
so put upon your hook as to preserve them to be 
living, you are as like to kill this crafty fish this 
way as any other ; but still as you are fishing, chew 
a little white or brown bread in your mouth, and 
cast it into the pond about the place where your 
float swims. Other baits there be ; but these, with 
diligence and patient watchfulness, will do it better 
than any that I have ever practised or heard of. 
And yet I shall tell you that the crumbs of white 
bread and honey made into a paste is a good bait 
for a carp, and you know it is more easily made. 
And having said thus much of the carp, my next 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 97 

discourse shall be of the bream, which shall not 
prove so tedious, and therefore I desire the con- 
tinuance of your attention. 

But first I will tell you how to make this carp, 
that is so curious to be caught, so curious a dish 
of meat as shall make him worth all your labor 
and patience ; and though it is not without some 
trouble and charges, yet it will recompense both. 

Take a carp, alive if possible, scour him, and rub 
him clean with water and salt, but scale him not ; 
then open him and put him with his blood and 
his liver, which you must save when you open 
him, into a small pot or kettle ; then take sweet- 
marjoram, thyme, and parsley, of each half a hand- 
ful, a sprig of rosemary and another of savory ; 
bind them into two or three small bundles, and 
put them to your carp, with four or five whole 
onions, twenty pickled oysters, and three ancho- 
vies. Then pour upon your carp as much claret- 
wine as will only cover him, and season your claret 
well with salt, cloves, and mace, and the rinds of 
oranges and lemons. That done, cover your pot 
and set it on a quick fire, till it be sufficiently 
boiled ; then take out the carp, and lay it with 
the broth into the dish, and pour upon it a quar- 
ter of a pound of the best fresh butter, melted^ 
and beaten with half-a-dozen spoonfuls of the 
broth, the yolks of two or three eggs, and some of 
the herbs shred. Garnish your dish with lemons, 
and so serve it up, and much good do you ! 



CHAPTER X. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE BREAM, AND DIRECTIONS 
TO CATCH HIM. 

pISCA TOR. The bream being at a full growth is 
a large and stately fish. He will breed both in 
rivers and ponds ; but loves best to live in ponds, 
and where, if he likes the water and air, he will 
grow not only to be very large, but as fat as a hog. 
He is by Gesner taken to be more pleasant or 
sweet than wholesome : this fish is long in grow- 
ing, but breeds exceedingly in a water that pleases 
him ; yea, in many ponds so fast as to over-store 
them and starve the other fish. 

He is very broad, with a forked tail, and his 
scales set in excellent order : he hath large eyes, 
and a narrow sucking mouth ; he hath two sets of 
teeth, and a lozenge-like bone, a bone to help his 
grinding. The melter is observed to have two 
large melts, and the female two large bags of eggs 
or spawn. 

Gesner reports that in Poland a certain and a 
great number of large breams were put into a 
pond, which in the next following winter were 
frozen up into one entire ice, and not one drop of 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 199 

water remaining, nor one of these fish to be found, 
though they were diligently searched for ; and yet 
the next spring when the ice was thawed and the 
weather warm, and fresh water got into the pond, 
he affirms they all appeared again. This Gesner 
affirms, and I quote my author because it seems 
almost as incredible as the resurrection to an 
atheist. But it may win something in point of 
believing it to him that considers the breeding or 
renovation of the silkworm and of many insects. 
And that is considerable which Sir Francis Bacon 
observes in his " History of Life and Death," 
folio 20, that there be some herbs that die and 
spring every year, and some endure longer. 

But though some do not, yet the French esteem 
this fish highly, and to that end have this proverb : 
" He that hath breams in his pond is able to bid 
his friend welcome." And it is noted that the 
best part of a bream is his belly and head. 

Some say that breams and roaches will mix 
their eggs and melt together, and so there is in 
many places a bastard breed of breams that 
never come to be either large or good, but very 
numerous. 

The baits good to catch this bream are many. 
First, paste made of brown bread and honey, 
gentles, or the brood of wasps that be young, and 
then not unlike gentles, and should be hardened 
in an oven, or dried on a tile before the fire to 
make them tough ; or there is at the root of 
docks or flags or rushes, in watery places, a worm 



200 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

not unlike a maggot, at which bream will bite 
freely. Or he will bite at a grasshopper with his 
legs nipped off, in June and July, or at several 
flies under water, which may be found on flags 
that grow near to the water-side. I doubt not but 
that there be many other baits that are good, but 
I will turn them all into this most excellent one, 
either for a carp or bream, in any river or mere ; 
it was given to me by a most honest and excel- 
lent angler, and, hoping you will prove both, I 
will impart it to you. 

i. Let your bait be as big a red-worm as you 
can find without a knot : get a pint or quart of 
them in an evening in garden-walks, or chalky 
commons, after a shower of rain, and put them 
with clean moss well washed and picked, and the 
water squeezed out of the moss as dry as you can, 
into an earthen pot or pipkin set dry, and change 
the moss fresh every three or four days for three 
weeks or a month together ; then your bait will 
be at the best, for it will be clear and lively. 

2. Having thus prepared your baits, get your 
tackling ready and fitted for this sport. Take 
three long angling-rods, and as many and more 
silk, or silk and hair, lines, and as many large 
swan or goose-quill floats. Then take a piece of 
lead made after this manner, and fasten them to 
the low-ends of your lines. Then fasten your 
link-hook also to the lead, and let there be about 
a foot or ten inches between the lead and the 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 201 

hook ; but be sure the lead be heavy enough to 
sink the float or quill a little under the water, and 
not the quill to bear up the lead, for the lead must 
lie on the ground. Note that your link next the 
hook may be smaller than the rest of your line, if 
you dare adventure, for fear of taking the pike or 
perch, who will assuredly visit your hooks till they 
be taken out, as I will show you afterwards, before 
either carp or bream will come near to bite. 
Note, also, that when the worm is well baited, it 
will crawl up and down as far as the lead will give 
leave, which much enticeth the fish to bite with- 
out suspicion. 

3. Having thus prepared your baits and fitted 
your tackling, repair to the river, where you have 
seen them to swim in skulls or shoals in the sum- 
mer-time in a hot afternoon, about three or four 
of the clock ; and watch their going forth of their 
deep holes and returning, which you may well 
discern, for they return about four of the clock, 
most of them seeking food at the bottom, yet one 
or two will lie on the top of the water, rolling and 
tumbling themselves, whilst the rest are under 
him at the bottom ; and so you shall perceive him 
to keep sentinel. Then mark where he plays most 
and stays longest, which commonly is in the broad- 
est and deepest place of the river, and there or 
near thereabouts, at a clear bottom and a conven- 
ient landing-place, take one of your angles ready 
fitted as aforesaid, and sound the bottom, which 
should be about eight or ten feet deep ; two yards 



202 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

from the bank is best. Then consider with your- 
self whether that water will rise or fall by the next 
morning, by reason of any water-mills near, and 
according to your discretion take the depth of 
the place where you mean after to cast your 
ground-bait and to fish, to half an inch, that, the 
lead lying on or near the ground-bait, the top of 
the float may only appear upright half an inch 
above the water. 

Thus you having found and fitted for the place 
and depth thereof, then go home and prepare 
your ground-bait ; which is, next to the fruit of 
your labors, to be regarded. 

The Ground-Bait. 

You shall take a peck or a peck and a half, ac- 
cording to the greatness of the stream and deep- 
ness of the water where you mean to angle, of 
sweet gross-ground barley malt, and boil it in a 
kettle ; one or two worms is enough ; then strain 
it through a bag into a tub, the liquor whereof 
hath often done my horse much good ; and when 
the bag and malt is near cold, take it down to the 
water-side about eight or nine of the clock in the 
evening, and not before ; cast in two parts of your 
ground-bait squeezed hard between both your 
hands ; it will sink presently to the bottom, and 
be sure it may rest in the very place where you 
mean to angle ; if the stream run hard or move a 
little, cast your malt in handfuls a little the higher, 
upwards the stream. You may, between your 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 203 

hands, close the malt so fast in handfuls that the 
water will hardly part it with the fall. 

Your ground thus baited, and tackling fitted, 
leave your bag with the rest of your tackling and 
ground-bait near the sporting-place all night ; and 
in the morning, about three or four of the clock, 
visit the water-side, but not too near, for they have 
a cunning watchman, and are watchful themselves 
too. 

Then gently take one of your three rods and 
bait your hook, casting it over your ground- 
bait ; and gently and secretly draw it to you, till 
the lead rests about the middle of the ground- 
bait. 

Then take a second rod and cast in about a 
yard above, and your third a yard below the first 
rod, and stay the rods in the ground ; but go 
yourself so far from the water-side that you per- 
ceive nothing but the top of the floats, which you 
must watch most diligently. Then, when you 
have a bite, you shall perceive the top of your 
float to sink suddenly into the water ; yet never- 
theless be not too hasty to run to your rods until 
you see that the line goes clear away ; then creep 
to the water-side, and give as much line as possi- 
bly you can ; if it be a good carp or bream, they 
will go to the farther side of the river, then strike 
gently, and hold your rod at a bent a little while ; 
but if you both pull together, you are sure to lose 
your game, for either your line or hook or hold 
will break : and after you have overcome them, 



204 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

they will make noble sport, and are very shy to 
be landed. The carp is far stronger and more 
mettlesome than the bream. 

Much more is to be observed in this kind of 
fish and fishing, but it is far fitter for experience 
and discourse than paper. Only thus much is 
necessary for you to know, and to be mindful and 
careful of: that if the pike or perch do breed in 
that river, they will be sure to bite first, and must 
first be taken. And for the most part they are 
very large ; and will repair to your ground-bait, 
not that they will eat of it, but will feed and sport 
themselves amongst the young fry that gather 
about and hover over the bait. 

The way to discern the pike and to take him; 
if you mistrust your bream-hook, — for I have 
taken a pike a yard long several times at my 
bream-hooks, and sometimes he hath had the luck 
to share my line, — may be thus : — 

Take a small bleak or roach or gudgeon, and 
bait it ; and set it alive among your rods two feet 
deep from the cork, with a little red worm on the 
point of the hook ; then take a few crumbs of 
white bread, or some of the ground-bait, and 
sprinkle it gently amongst your rods. If Mr. Pike 
be there, then the little fish will skip out of the 
water at his appearance, but the live-set bait is 
sure to be taken. 

Thus continue your sport from four in the morn- 
ing till eight, and if it be a gloomy, windy day, 
they will bite all day long. But this is too long to 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 205 

stand to your rods at one place, and it will spoil 
your evening sport that day, which is this. 

About four of the clock in the afternoon repair 
to your baited place ; and as soon as you come to 
the water-side cast in one half of the rest of your 
ground-bait, and stand off: then, whilst the fish 
are gathering together, for there they will most 
certainly come for their supper, you may take a 
pipe of tobacco, and then in with your three rods 
as in the morning. You will find excellent sport 
that evening till eight of the clock ; then cast in 
the residue of your ground-bait, and next morning, 
by four of the clock, visit them again for four 
hours, which is the best sport of all ; and after 
that, let them rest till you and your friends have a 
mind to more sport. 

From St. James's-tide until Bartholomew-tide is 
the best ; when they have had all the summer's 
food, they are the fattest. 

Observe, lastly, that after three or four days' 
fishing together, your game will be very shy and 
wary, and you shall hardly get above a bite or two 
at a baiting; then your only way is to desist 
from your sport about two or three days ; and in 
the mean time, on the place you late baited and 
again intend to bait, you shall take a turf of green 
but short grass, as big or bigger than a round 
trencher j to the top of this turf, on the green 
side, you shall, with a needle and green thread, 
fasten one by one as many little red worms as will 
near cover all the turf; then take a round board 



206 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

or trencher, make a hole in the middle thereof, 
and through the turf, placed on the board or 
trencher, with a string or cord as long as is fitting, 
tied to a pole, let it down to the bottom of the 
water for the fish to feed upon without disturb- 
ance about two or three days ; and after that you 
have drawn it away, you may fall to, and enjoy 
your former recreation. B. A. 



t\)t jfourtl) may. 

CHAPTER XI. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE TENCH, AND ADVICE HOW 
TO ANGLE FOR HIM. 

JDISCATOR. The tench, the physician of 
fishes, is observed to love ponds better than 
rivers, and to love pits better than either. Yet 
Camden observes there is a river in Dorsetshire 
that abounds with tenches, but doubtless they re- 
tire to the most deep and quiet places in it. 

This fish hath very large fins, very small and 
smooth scales, a red circle about his eyes, which 
are big and of a gold color, and from either angle 
of his mouth there hangs down a little barb. In 
every tench's head there are two little stones, 
which foreign physicians make great use of ; but 
he is not commended for wholesome meat, though 
there be very much use made of them for outward 
applications. Rondeletius says that at his being 
at Rome he saw a great cure done by applying a 
tench to the feet of a very sick man. This, he says, 
was done after an unusual manner by certain Jews. 
And it is observed that many of those people 
have many secrets yet unknown to Christians, — 



208 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

secrets that have never yet been written, but have 
been since the days of their Solomon, who knew 
the nature of all things, even from the cedar to 
the shrub, delivered by tradition from the father 
to the son, and so from generation to generation 
without writing ; or, unless it were casually, without 
the least communicating them to any other nation 
or tribe, — for to do that they account a profana- 
tion. And yet it is thought that they, or some spirit 
worse than they, first told us that lice swallowed 
alive were a certain cure for the yellow jaundice. 
This and many other medicines were discovered 
by them or by revelation ; for, doubtless, we at- 
tained them not by study. 

Well, this fish, besides his eating, is very useful, 
both dead and alive, for the good of mankind. 
But I will meddle no more with that ; my honest, 
humble art teaches no such boldness. There are 
too many foolish meddlers in physic and divinity 
that think themselves fit to meddle with hidden 
secrets, and so bring destruction to their follow- 
ers. But I '11 not meddle with them any further 
than to wish them wiser ; and shall tell you next, 
for I hope I may be so bold, that the tench is the 
physician of fishes, for the pike especially, and 
that the pike being either sick or hurt, is cured by 
the touch of the tench. And it is observed that 
the tyrant pike will not be a wolf to his physician, 
but forbears to devour him though he be never so 
hungry. 

This fish, that carries a natural balsam in him to 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 209 

cure both himself and others, loves yet to feed in 
very foul water and amongst weeds. And yet I 
am sure he eats pleasantly, and doubtless you will 
think so too, if you taste him. And I shall there- 
fore proceed to give you some few, and but a few, 
directions how to catch this tench, of which I have 
given you these observations. 

He will bite at a paste made of brown bread 
and honey, or at a marsh-worm or a lob-worm ; 
he inclines very much to any paste with which tar 
is mixed, and he will bite also at a smaller worm 
with his head nipped off, and a cod -worm put on 
the hook before that worm ; and I doubt not but 
that he will also in the three hot months, for in 
the nine colder he stirs not much, bite at a flag- 
worm or at a green gentle, but can positively say 
no more of the tench, he being a fish that I have 
not often angled for, but I wish my honest scholar 
may, and be ever fortunate when he fishes. 



M 



t\)t jfourtt) HDa^ 

CHAPTER XII. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE PERCH, AND DIRECTIONS 
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM, 

JDISCATOR. The perch is a very good and a 
very bold-biting fish. He is one of the fishes 
of prey that, like the pike and trout, carries his 
teeth in his mouth, which is very large, and he 
dare venture to kill and devour several other kinds 
of fish. He has a hooked, or hog, back, which is 
armed with sharp and stiff bristles, and all his skin 
armed or covered over with thick, dry, hard scales, 
and hath, which few other fish have, two fins on 
his back. He is so bold that he will invade one 
of his own kind, which the pike will not do so 
willingly ; and you may therefore easily believe him 
to be a bold biter. 

The perch is of great esteem in Italy, saith 
Aldrovandus, and especially the least are there es- 
teemed a dainty fish. And Gesner prefers the 
perch and pike above the trout, or any fresh- 
water fish. He says the Germans have this prov- 
erb, " More wholesome than a perch of Rhine ; '* 
and he says the river-perch is so wholesome that 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 211 

physicians allow him to be eaten by wounded men, 
or by men in fevers, or by women in childbed. 

He spawns but once a year, and is by physi- 
cians held very nutritive ; yet by many, to be hard 
of digestion. They abound more in the river Po 
and in England, says Rondeletius, than other parts, 
and have in their brain a stone, which is in for- 
eign parts sold by apothecaries, being there noted 
to be very medicinable against the stone in the 
reins. These be a part of the commendations 
which some philosophical brains have bestowed 
upon the fresh-water perch ; yet they commend 
the sea-perch, which is known by having but one 
fin on his back, of which they say we English see 
but a few, to be a much better fish. 

The perch grows slowly, yet will grow, as I 
have been credibly informed, to be almost two 
feet long ; for an honest informer told me, such a 
one was not long since taken by Sir Abraham 
Williams, a gentleman of worth, and a brother of 
the angle, that yet lives, and I wish he may. This 
was a deep-bodied fish, and doubtless durst have 
devoured a pike of half his own length ; for I have 
told you he is a bold fish, such a one as but for 
extreme hunger the pike will not devour ; for to 
affright the pike and save himself, the perch will 
set up his fins, much like as a turkey-cock will 
sometimes set up his tail. 

But, my scholar, the perch is not only valiant 
to defend himself, but he is, as I said, a bold-bit- 
ing fish ; yet he will not bite at all seasons of the 



212 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

year. He is very abstemious in winter, yet will 
bite then in the midst of the day, if it be warm ; 
and note that all fish bite best about the midst of 
a warm day in winter, and he hath been observed 
by some, not usually, to bite till the mulberry- 
tree buds, that is to say, till extreme frosts 
be past the spring : for when the mulberry-tree 
blossoms many gardeners observe their forward 
fruit to be past the danger of frosts ; and some 
have made the like observation of the perch's 
biting. 

But bite the perch will, and that very boldly ; 
and as one has wittily observed, if there be twenty 
or forty in a hole, they may be, at one standing, 
all catched, one after another ; they being, as 
he says, like the wicked of the world, not afraid, 
though their fellows and companions perish in 
their sight. And you may observe that they are 
not like the solitary pike, but love to accompany 
one another, and march together in troops. 

And the baits for this bold fish are not many : 
I mean he will bite as well at some or at any of 
these three as at any or all others whatsoever, — a 
worm, a minnow, or a little frog, of which you 
may find many in hay-time ; and of worms, the 
dung-hill worm, called a brandling, I take to be 
best, being well scoured in moss or fennel ; or he 
will bite at a worm that lies under cow-dung with 
a bluish head. And if you rove for a perch with 
a minnow, then it is best to be alive, you sticking 
your hook through his back fin ; or a minnow 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 213 

with the hook in his upper lip, and letting him 
swim up and down, about mid-water or a little 
lower, and you still keeping him to about that 
depth by a cork, which ought not to be a very 
little one : and the like way you are to fish for 
the perch with a small frog, your hook being fas- 
tened through the skin of his leg, towards the 
upper part of it : and lastly, I will give you but 
this advice, — that you give the perch time 
enough when he bites, for there was scarce ever 
any angler that has given him too much. And 
now I think best to rest myself, for I have almost 
spent my spirits with talking so long. 

Ven. Nay, good master, one fish more, for you 
see it rains still, and you know our angles are 
like money put to usury ; they may thrive, though 
we sit still and do nothing but talk and enjoy 
one another. Come, come, the other fish, good 
master. 

Pise. But, scholar, have you nothing to mix 
with this discourse, which now grows both tedious 
and tiresome? Shall I have nothing from you, 
that seem to have both a good memory and a 
cheerful spirit? 

Ven. Yes, master, I will speak you a copy of 
verses that were made by Dr. Donne, and made 
to show the world that he could make soft and 
smooth verses, when he thought smoothness worth 
his labor ; and I love them the better, because 
they allude to rivers and fish and fishing. They 
be these : — 



214 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

" Come, live with me and be my love, 
And we will some new pleasures prove 
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, 
With silken lines and silver hooks. 

" There will the river, whispering, run, 
Warmed by the eyes more than the sun, 
And there the enamel'd fish will stay, 
Begging themselves they may betray. 

" When thou wilt swim in that live bath, 
Each fish, which every channel hath, 
Most am'rously to thee will swim, 
Gladder to catch thee than thou him. 

" If thou to be so seen be'st loath 
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both ; 
And if mine eyes have leave to see, 
I need not their light, having thee. 

" Let others freeze with angling-reeds, 
And cut their legs with shells and weeds; 
Or treacherously poor fish beset, 
With strangling snares, or windowy net -, 

" Let coarse, bold hands from slimy nest 
The bedded fish in banks outwrest ; 
Let curious traitors sleave silk flies, 
To 'witch poor fishes' wandering eyes : 

" For thee, thou need'st no such deceit, 
For thou thyself art thine own bait ; 
That fish that is not catch't thereby, 
Is wiser far, alas ! than I." 

Pise. Well remembered, honest scholar. I 
thank you for these choice verses, which I have 
heard formerly, but had quite forgot till they were 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



215 



recovered by your happy memory. Well, being I 
have now rested myself a little, I will make you 
some requital by telling you some observations of 
the eel, for it rains still, and because, as you say, 
our angles are as money put to use, that thrives 
when we play ; therefore we '11 sit still and 
enjoy ourselves a little longer under this honey- 
suckle hedge. 



tl\t jfourtl) H>a^* 

CHAPTER XIII. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE EEL, AND OTHER FISH THAT 
WANT SCALES, AND HOW TO FISH FOR THEM. 

DISC A TOR. It is agreed by most men that the 
eel is a most dainty fish ; the Romans have 
esteemed her the Helena of their feasts, and some 
the queen of palate-pleasure. But most men dif- 
fer about their breeding : some say they breed by 
generation, as other fish do ; and others that they 
breed, as some worms do, of mud, — as rats and 
mice and many other living creatures are bred in 
Egypt, by the sun's heat when it shines upon the 
overflowing of the river Nilus, — or out of the putre- 
faction of the earth, and divers other ways. Those 
that deny them to breed by generation, as other fish 
do, ask if any man ever saw an eel to have a spawn or 
melt. And they are answered that they may be as 
certain of their breeding as if they had seen them 
spawn ; for they say that they are certain that eels 
have all parts fit for generation, like other fish, but 
so small as not to be easily discerned, by reason of 
their fatness, but that discerned they may be, and 
that the he and the she eel may be distinguished by 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 21 J 

their fins. And Rondeletius says he has seen eels 
cling together like dew-worms. 

And others say that eels, growing old, breed 
other eels out of the corruption of their own age, 
which, Sir Francis Bacon says, exceeds not ten 
years. And others say that as pearls are made of 
glutinous dew-drops, which are condensed by the 
sun's heat in those countries, so eels are bred of 
a particular dew, falling in the months of May or 
June on the banks of some particular ponds or 
rivers, apted by nature for that end ; which in a 
few days are by the sun's heat turned into eels ; 
and some of the ancients have called the eels that 
are thus bred the offspring of Jove. I have seen in 
the beginning of July, in a river not far from Canter- 
bury, some parts of it covered over with young eels, 
about the thickness of a straw ; and these eels did 
lie on the top of that water, as thick as motes are 
said to be in the sun ; and I have heard the like of 
other rivers, as namely in Severn, where they are 
called yelvers ; and in a pond or mere near unto 
Staffordshire, where about a set time in summer 
such small eels abound so much that many of the 
poorer sort of people that inhabit near to it take 
such eels out of this mere with sieves or sheets, and 
make a kind of eel-cake of them, and eat it like as 
bread. And Gesner quotes Venerable Bede to say 
that in England there is an island called Ely, by 
reason of the innumerable number of eels that 
breed in it. But that eels may be bred as some 
worms and some kind of bees and wasps are, 



2l8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

either of dew, or out of the corruption of the earth, 
seems to be made probable by the barnacles and 
young goslings bred by the sun's heat and the rotten 
planks of an old ship, and hatched of trees ; both 
which are related for truths by Du Bartas and Lo- 
bel, and also by our learned Camden and labori- 
ous Gerard in his Herbal. 

It is said by Rondeletius, that those eels that are 
bred in rivers that relate to or be nearer to the sea, 
never return to the fresh waters, as the salmon does 
always desire to do, when they have once tasted the 
salt water ; and I do the more easily believe this, be- 
cause I am certain that powdered beef is a most ex- 
cellent bait to catch an eel. And though Sir Francis 
Bacon will allow the eel's life to be but ten years, 
yet he, in his " History of Life and Death," men- 
tions a lamprey belonging to the Roman emperor 
to be made tame, and so kept for almost three- 
score years ; and that such useful and pleasant 
observations were made of this lamprey, that 
Crassus the Orator, who kept her, lamented her 
death. And we read in Dr. Hakewill, that Hor- 
tensius was seen to weep at the death of a lam- 
prey that he had kept long and loved exceedingly. 

It is granted by all, or most men, that eels, 
for about six months, that is to say, the six cold 
months of the year, stir not up and down, 
neither in the rivers, nor in the pools in which 
they usually are, but get into the soft earth or 
mud ; and there many of them together bed 
themselves, and live without feeding upon any- 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 219 

thing, as I have told you some swallows have been 
observed to do in hollow trees for those cold six 
months : and this the eel and swallow do, as not 
being able to endure winter weather, — for Gesner 
quotes Albertus to say that in the year 1125, that 
year's winter being more cold than usually, eels 
did by nature's instinct get out of the water into a 
stack of hay in a meadow upon dry ground, and 
there bedded themselves ; but yet at last a frost 
killed them. And our Camden relates that in 
Lancashire fishes were digged out of the earth 
with spades, where no water was near to the place. 
I shall say little more of the eel, but that, as it is 
observed he is impatient of cold, so it hath been 
observed that in warm weather an eel has been 
known to live five days out of the water. 

And lastly, let me tell you that some curious 
searchers into the natures of fish observe that there 
be several sorts or kinds of eels : as the silver eel, 
and green or greenish eel, with which the river of 
Thames abounds, and those are called grigs ; and a 
blackish eel, whose head is more flat and bigger than 
ordinary eels ; and also an eel whose fins are reddish 
and but seldom taken in this nation, and yet taken 
sometimes. These several kinds of eels are, say 
some, diversely bred ; and namely, out of the cor- 
ruption of the earth, and some by dew, and other 
ways, as I have said to you ; and yet it is affirmed 
by some for a certain that the silver eel is bred by 
generation, but not by spawning, as other fish do, 
but that her brood come alive from her, being then 



220 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

little live eels no bigger nor longer than a pin : and 
I have had too many testimonies of this to doubt 
the truth of it myse]f, and if I thought it needful I 
might prove it, but I think it is needless. 

And this eel, of which I have said so much to 
you, may be caught with divers kinds of baits, as 
namely with powdered beef, with a lob or garden 
worm, with a minnow, or gut of a hen, chicken, or 
the guts of any fish, or with almost anything, for 
he is a greedy fish. But the eel may be caught, 
especially, with a little, a very little lamprey, which 
some call a pride, and may in the hot months be 
found many of them in the river Thames, and in 
many mud-heaps in other rivers ; yea, almost as 
usually as one finds worms in a dunghill. 

Next note that the eel seldom stirs in the day, 
but then hides himself ; and therefore he is usually 
caught by night with one of these baits of which I 
have spoken, and may be then caught by laying 
hooks, which you are to fasten to the bank or 
twigs of a tree, or by throwing a string cross the 
stream with many hooks at it, and those baited 
with the aforesaid baits ; and a clod or plummet 
or stone thrown into the river with this line, that 
so you may in the morning find it near to some 
fixed place, and then take it up with a drag-hook 
or otherwise. But these things are, indeed, too 
common to be spoken of, and an hour's fishing 
with any angler will teach you better both for 
these and many other common things in the prac- 
tical part of angling than a week's discourse. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 221 

I shall therefore conclude this direction for tak- 
ing the eel, by telling you that in a warm day 
in summer I have taken many a good eel by 
sniggling, and have been much pleased with that 
sport. 

And because you that are but a young angler 
know not what sniggling is, I will now teach it to 
you. You remember I told you that eels do not 
usually stir in the daytime, for then they hide 
themselves under some covert, or under boards or 
planks about floodgates, or weirs, or mills, or in 
holes in the river-banks ; so that you, observing 
your time in a warm day, when the water is low- 
est, may take a strong, small hook, tied to a 
strong line, or to a string about a yard long, and 
then into one of these holes, or between any 
boards about a mill, or under any great stone or 
plank, or any place where you think an eel may 
hide or shelter herself, you may, with the help of 
a short stick, put in your bait, but leisurely, and 
as far as you may conveniently ; and it is scarce 
to be doubted but that if there be an eel within 
the sight of it, the eel will bite instantly, and as 
certainly gorge it; and you need not doubt to 
have him if you pull him not out of the hole too 
quickly, but pull him out by degrees, for he, lying 
folded double in his hole, will, with the help of 
his tail, break all, unless you give him time to be 
wearied with pulling, and so get him out by de- 
grees, not pulling too hard. 

And to commute for your patient hearing this 



222 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

long direction, I shall next tell you how to make 
this eel a most excellent dish of meat. 

First, wash him in water and salt ; then pull off 
his skin below his vent or navel, and not much 
further. Having done that, take out his guts as 
clean as you can, but wash him not. Then give 
him three or four scotches with a knife, and then 
put into his belly and those scotches sweet herbs, 
an anchovy, and a little nutmeg grated or cut 
very small ; and your herbs and anchovies must 
also be cut very small, and mixed with good butter 
and salt. Having done this, then pull his skin over 
him, all but his head, which you are to cut off, to 
the end you may tie his skin about that part 
where his head grew, and it must be so tied as to 
keep all his moisture within his skin ; and having 
done this, tie him with tape or packthread to a 
spit, and roast him leisurely, and baste him with 
water and salt till his skin breaks, and then with 
butter ; and having roasted him enough, let what 
was put into his belly and what he drips be his 
sauce. S. F. 

When I go to dress an eel thus, I wish he 
were as long and big as that which was caught in 
Peterborough River in the year 1667, which was 
a yard and three quarters long. If you will not 
believe me, then go and see at one of the coffee- 
houses in King Street in Westminster. 

But now let me tell you, that though the eel 
thus dressed be not only excellent good, but more 
harmless than any other way, yet it is certain that 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 223 

physicians account the eel dangerous meat. I 
will advise you, therefore, as Solomon says of 
honey (Prov. xxv. 16), " Hast thou found it, eat 
no more than is sufficient, lest thou surfeit, for it 
is not good to eat much honey." And let me 
add this, that the uncharitable Italian bids us 
" give eels and no wine to our enemies." 

And I will beg a little more of your attention to 
tell you that Aldrovandus and divers physicians 
commend the eel very much for medicine, though 
not for meat. But let me tell you one observation, 
— that the eel is never out of season, as trouts and 
most other fish are at set times ; at least most eels 
are not. 

I might here speak of many other fish whose 
shape and nature are much like the eel, and fre- 
quent both the sea and fresh rivers, as namely the 
lamprel, the lamprey, and the lamperne ; as also of 
the mighty conger, taken often in Severn about 
Gloucester ; and might also tell in what high es- 
teem many of them are for the curiosity of their 
taste. But these are not so proper to be talked of 
by me, because they make us anglers no sport ; 
therefore I will let them alone, as the Jews do, to 
whom they are forbidden by their law. 

And, scholar, there is also a flounder, a sea-fish, 
which will wander very far into fresh rivers, and 
there lose himself, and dwell, and thrive to a hand's 
breadth, and almost twice so long ; a fish without 
scales, and most excellent meat ; and a fish that 
affords much sport to the angler with any small 



224 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

worm, but especially a little bluish worm, gotten 
out of marsh-ground or meadows, which should 
be well scoured. But this, though it be most ex- 
cellent meat, yet it wants scales, and is, as I told 
you, therefore an abomination to the Jews. 

But, scholar, there is a fish that they in Lan- 
cashire boast very much of, called a char, taken 
there, and I think there only, in a mere called 
Winander-Mere, — a mere, says Camden, that is 
the largest in this nation, being ten miles in length, 
and some say as smooth in the bottom as if it 
were paved with polished marble. This fish never 
exceeds fifteen or sixteen inches in length, and 
't is spotted like a trout, and has scarce a bone but 
on the back. But this, though I do not know 
whether it make the angler sport, yet I would have 
you take notice of it, because it is a rarity, and of 
so high esteem with persons of great note. 

Nor would I have you ignorant of a rare fish 
called a guiniad, of which I shall tell you what 
Camden and others speak. The river Dee, which 
runs by Chester, springs in Merionethshire ; and as 
it runs toward Chester it runs through Pemble- 
Mere, which is a large water ; and it is observed 
that though the river Dee abounds with salmon, 
and Pemble-Mere with the guiniad, yet there is 
never any salmon caught in the mere, nor a guiniad 
in the river. And now my next observation shall 
be of the barbel. 



t\)t ifourtl) Ww> 

CHAPTER XIV. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE BARBEL, AND DIRECTIONS 
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. 

piSCATOR. The barbel is so called, says Ges- 
ner, by reason of his barb or wattels at his mouth, 
which are under his nose or chaps. He is one of 
those leather-mouthed fishes that I told you of, 
that does very seldom break his hold if he be once 
hooked ; but he is so strong that he will often 
break both rod and line, if he proves to be a big 
one. 

But the barbel, though he be of a fine shape, 
and looks big, yet he is not accounted the best fish 
to eat, neither for his wholesomeness nor his taste ; 
but the male is reputed much better than the fe- 
male, whose spawn is very hurtful, as I will pres- 
ently declare to you. 

They flock together like sheep, and are at the 
worst in April, about which time they spawn, but 
quickly grow to be in season. He is able to live 
in the strongest swifts of the water, and in summer 
they love the shallowest and sharpest streams ; and 
love to lurk under weeds, and to feed on gravel 
against a rising ground, and will root and dig in 
15 



226 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

the sands with his nose like a hog, and there nests 
himself; yet sometimes he retires to deep and 
swift bridges, or floodgates, or weirs, where he will 
nest himself amongst piles or in hollow places, 
and take such hold of moss or weeds that, be the 
water never so swift, it is not able to force him 
from the place that he contends for. This is his 
constant custom in summer, when he and most 
living creatures sport themselves in the sun ; but 
at the approach of winter, then he forsakes the 
swift streams and shallow waters, and by degrees 
retires to those parts of the river that are quiet and 
deeper : in which places, and I think about that 
time, he spawns ; and as I have formerly told you, 
with the help of the melter, hides his spawn or 
eggs in holes, which they both dig in the gravel ; 
and then they mutually labor to cover it with the 
same sand, to prevent it from being devoured by 
other fish. 

There be such store of this fish in the river 
Danube that, Rondeletius says, they may in some 
places of it and in some months of the year be 
taken by those that dwell near to the river, with 
their hands, eight or ten load at a time. He 
says they begin to be good in May, and that they 
cease to be so in August, but it is found to be 
otherwise in this nation ; but thus far we agree 
with him, that the spawn of a barbel, if it be not 
poison, as he says, yet that it is dangerous meat, 
and especially in the month of May ; which is so 
certain that Gesner and Gasius declare it had an 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 227 

ill effect upon them, even to the endangering of 
their lives. 

This fish is of a fine cast and handsome shape, 
with small scales, which are placed after a most 
exact and curious manner, and, as I told you, may 
be rather said not to be ill than to be good meat. 
The chub and he have, I think, both lost part of 
their credit by ill cookery, they being reputed the 
worst or coarsest of fresh-water fish. But the bar- 
bel affords an angler choice sport, being a lusty 
and a cunning fish ; so lusty and cunning as to 
endanger the breaking of the angler's line by 
running his head forcibly towards any covert or 
hole or bank, and then striking at the line, to 
break it off with his tail, as is observed by Plu- 
tarch in his book " De Industria Animalium ; " 
and also so cunning to nibble and suck off your 
worm close to the hook, and yet avoid the letting 
the hook come into his mouth. 

The barbel is also curious for his baits, that is 
to say, that they be clean and sweet ; that is to 
say, to have your worms well scoured, and not 
kept in sour and musty moss, for he is a curious 
feeder : but at a well-scoured lob-worm he will 
bite as boldly as at any bait, and specially if the 
night or two before you fish for him you shall bait 
the places where you intend to fish for him with 
big worms cut into pieces ; and note that none 
did ever over-bait the place, nor fish too early or 
too late for a barbel. And the barbel will bite also 
at gentles, which not being too much scoured, but 



228 THE COMFLETE ANGLER, 

green, are a choice bait for him ; and so is cheese, 
which is not to be too hard, but kept a day or two 
in a wet linen cloth to make it tough. With this 
you may also bait the water a day or two before 
you fish for the barbel, and be much the likelier to 
catch store ; and if the cheese were laid in clarified 
honey a short time before, as namely an hour or 
two, you were still the likelier to catch fish. Some 
have directed to cut the cheese into thin pieces 
and toast it, and then tie it on the hook with fine 
silk ; and some advise to fish for the barbel with 
sheep's tallow and soft cheese beaten or worked 
into a paste, and that it is choicely good in Au- 
gust, and I believe it : but doubtless the lob-worm 
well scoured, and the gentle not too much scoured, 
and cheese ordered as I have directed, are baits 
enough; and I think will serve in any month, 
though I shall commend any angler that tries con- 
clusions, and is industrious to improve the art. And 
now, my honest scholar, the long shower and my 
tedious discourse are both ended together ; and I 
shall give you but this observation, that when you 
fish for a barbel your rod and line be both long 
and of good strength ; for, as I told you, you will 
find him a heavy and a dogged fish to be dealt 
withal, yet he seldom or never breaks his hold if 
he be once strucken. And if you would know 
more of fishing for the umber or barbel, get into 
favor with Dr. Sheldon, whose skill is above others ; 
and of that the poor that dwell about him have a 
comfortable experience. And now let's go and 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 229 

see what interest the trouts will pay us for letting 
our angle-rods lie so long and so quietly in the 
water for their use. Come, scholar, which will 
you take up ? 

Ven. Which you think fit, master. 

Pise. Why, you shall take up that ; for I am 
certain, by viewing the line, it has a fish at it. 
Look you, scholar ! Well done ! Come now, 
take up the other too. Well ! Now you may tell 
my brother Peter at night that you have caught a 
leash of trouts this day. And now let 's move 
toward our lodging, and drink a draught of red- 
cow's milk as we go, and give pretty Maudlin and 
her honest mother a brace of trouts for their 
supper. 

Ven. Master, I like your motion very well ; 
and I think it is now about milking-time, and 
yonder they be at it. 

Pise. God speed you, good woman ! I thank 
you both for our songs last night : I and my com- 
panion have had such fortune a-fishing this day 
that we resolved to give you and Maudlin a brace 
of trouts for supper, and we will now taste a 
draught of your red-cow's milk. 

Milkw. Marry, and that you shall with all my 
heart, and I will be still your debtor when you 
come this way : if you will but speak the word, I 
will make you a good syllabub of new verjuice, 
and then you may sit down in a hay-cock and eat 
it ; and Maudlin shall sit by and sing you the good 
old song of the " Hunting in Chevy Chace," or 



230 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

some other good ballad, for she hath store of 
them. Maudlin, my honest Maudlin, hath a nota- 
ble memory, and she thinks nothing too good for 
you, because you be such honest men. 

Ven. We thank you, and intend once in a 
month to call upon you again, and give you a 
little warning, and so good night. Good night, 
Maudlin. And now good master, let 's lose no 
time ; but tell me somewhat more of fishing, and, 
if you please, first something of fishing for a 
gudgeon. 

Pise. I will, honest scholar. 



t\)t jFourtt) SDap* 

CHAPTER XV. 

OBSERVATIONS OF THE GUDGEON, THE RUFFE, AND 
THE BLEAK, AND HOW TO FISH FOR THEM. 

DISC A TOR, The gudgeon is reputed a fish of 
excellent taste and to be very wholesome ; he is 
of a fine shape, of a silver color, and beautified with 
black spots both on his body and tail. He breeds 
two or three times in the year, and always in 
summer. He is commended for a fish of excel- 
lent nourishment ; the Germans call him ground- 
ling, by reason of his feeding on the ground ; and 
he there feasts himself in sharp streams and on the 
gravel. He and the barbel both feed so, and do 
not hunt for flies at any time, as most other fishes 
do : he is an excellent fish to enter a young angler, 
being easy to be taken with a small red worm, on 
or very near to the ground. He is one of those 
leather-mouthed fish that has his teeth in his 
throat, and will hardly be lost from off the hook 
if he be once strucken. They be usually scattered 
up and down every river in the shallows, in the 
heat of summer ; but in autumn, when the weeds 
begin to grow sour or rot, and the weather colder, 
then they gather together and get into the deeper 



232 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

parts of the water, and are to be fished for there, 
with your hook always touching the ground, if you 
fish for him with a float or with a cork. But many 
will fish for the gudgeon by hand with a running- 
line upon the ground, without a cork, as a trout is 
fished for ; and it is an excellent way if you have a 
gentle rod and as gentle a hand. 

There is also another. fish, called a pope, and by 
some a ruffe, — a fish that is not known to be in 
some rivers ; he is much like the perch for his 
shape, and taken to be better than the perch, but 
will not grow to be bigger than a gudgeon. He is 
an excellent fish, no fish that swims is of a pleasanter 
taste, and he is also excellent to enter a young 
angler, for he is a greedy biter, and they will 
usually lie, abundance of them together, in one re- 
served place, where the water is deep and runs 
quietly ; and an easy angler, if he has found where 
they lie, may catch forty or fifty, or sometimes 
twice so many, at a standing. 

You must fish for him with a small red worm, 
and if you bait the ground with earth, it is 
excellent. 

There is also a bleak or fresh-water sprat, a fish 
that is ever in motion, and therefore called by 
some the river swallow; for just as you shall ob- 
serve the swallow to be, most evenings in summer, 
ever in motion, making short and quick turns 
when he flies to catch flies in the air, by which he 
lives, so does the bleak at the top of the water. 
Ausonius would have him called bleak from his 
whitish color : his back is of a pleasant sad or sea- 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 233 

water green, his belly white and shining as the 
mountain snow. And, doubtless, though he have 
the fortune, which virtue has in poor people, to be 
neglected, yet the bleak ought to be much valued, 
though we want allamot-salt, and the skill that the 
Italians have to turn them into anchovies. This 
fish may be caught with a pater-noster line ; that 
is, six or eight very small hooks tied along the 
line, one half a foot above the other : I have seen 
five caught thus at one time, and the bait has been 
gentles, than which none is better. 

Or this fish may be caught with a fine small 
artificial fly, which is to be of a very sad-brown 
color and very small, and the hook answerable. 
There is no better sport than whipping for bleaks 
in a boat or on a bank in the swift water in a 
summer's evening, with a hazel top about five or 
six foot long, and a line twice the length of the 
rod. I have heard Sir Henry Wotton say that 
there be many that in Italy will catch swallows 
so, or especially martins, this bird-angler standing 
on the top of a steeple to do it, and with a line 
twice so long as I have spoken of; and let me 
tell you, scholar, that both martins and bleaks be 
most excellent meat. 

And let me tell you that I have known a hern 
that did constantly frequent one place, caught 
with a hook baited with a big minnow or a small 
gudgeon. The line and hook must be strong, 
and tied to some loose stuff, so big as she cannot 
fly away with it, — a line not exceeding two 
yards. 



t\)t jfourti) SDa^* 

CHAPTER XVI. 

IS OF NOTHING, OR THAT WHICH IS NOTHING 
WORTH. 

JDISCATOR. My purpose was to give you some 
directions concerning roach and dace, and 
some other inferior fish which make the angler ex- 
cellent sport, for you know there is more pleasure 
in hunting the hare than in eating her j but I will 
forbear at this time to say any more, because you 
see yonder come our brother Peter and honest 
Coridon. But I will promise you that as you and 
I fish and walk to-morrow towards London, if I 
have now forgotten anything that I can then re- 
member, I will not keep it from you. 

Well met, gentlemen. This is lucky that we 
meet so just together at this very door. Come, 
hostess, where are you ? Is supper ready ? Come, 
first give us drink, and be as quick as you can, for 
I believe we are all very hungry. Well, brother 
Peter and Coridon, To you both ! come, drink, 
and then tell me what luck of fish. We two have 
caught but ten trouts, of which my scholar caught 
three. Look, here 's eight, and a brace we gave 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 235 

away. We have had a most pleasant day for fish- 
ing and talking, and are returned home both weary 
and hungry, and now meat and rest will be 
pleasant. 

Peter. And Coridon and I have had not an un- 
pleasant day, and yet I have caught but five trouts ; 
for indeed we went to a good honest alehouse, 
and there we played at shovel-board half the day : 
all the time that it rained we were there, and as 
merry as they that fished. And I am glad we are 
now with a dry house over our heads ; for, hark ! 
how it rains and blows. Come, hostess, give us 
more ale, and our supper with what haste you 
may. And when we have supped, let us have your 
song, Piscator, and the catch that your scholar 
promised us, or else Coridon will be dogged. 

Pise. Nay, I will not be worse than my word, 
you shall not want my song, and I hope I shall be 
perfect in it. 

Ven. And I hope the like for my catch, which I 
have ready too ; and therefore let 's go merrily to 
supper, and then have a gentle touch at singing 
and drinking, but the last with moderation. 

Cor. Come, now for your song, for we have fed 
heartily. Come, hostess, lay a few more sticks on 
the fire, and now sing when you will. 

Pise. Well, then, here 's to you, Coridon ; and 
now for my song. 

Oh, the gallant fisher's life, 
It is the best of any ; 



236 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

'T is full of pleasure, void of strife, 
And 't is beloved by many : 

Other joys 

Are but toys, 

Only this 

Lawful is ; 

For our skill 

Breeds no ill, 
But content and pleasure- 
In a morning up we rise, 
Ere Aurora 's peeping : 
Drink a cup to wash our eyes, 
Leave the sluggard sleeping: 

Then we go 

To and fro, 

With our knacks 

At our backs, 

To such streams 

As the Thames, 
If we have the leisure. 

When we please to walk abroad 

For our recreation, 
In the fields is our abode, 
Full of delectation : 
Where in a brook 
With a hook, 
Or a lake, 
Fish we take ; 
There we sit, 
For a bit, 
Till we fish entangle. 

We have gentles in a horn, 

We have paste and worms too; 

We can watch both night and morn, 
Suffer rain and storms too. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2^7 

None do here 
Use to swear, 
Oaths do fray 
Fish away ; 
We sit still, 
And watch our quill ; 
Fishers must not wrangle. 

If the sun's excessive heat 
Make our bodies swelter, 
To an osier hedge we get 
For a friendly shelter, 
Where in a dike 
Perch or pike, 
Roach or dace, 
We do chase, 
Bleak or gudgeon 
Without grudging ; 
We are still contented. 

Or we sometimes pass an hour 

Under a green willow 
That defends us from a shower, 
Making earth our pillow ; 
Where we may 
Think and pray, 
Before death 
Stops our breath. 
Other jovs 
Are but toys, 
And to be lamented. 

Jo. Chalkhill. 

Ven. Well sung, master ! This day's fortune and 
pleasure, and this night's company and song, do 
all make me more and more in love with angling. 
Gentlemen, my master left me alone for an hour 
this day, and I verily believe he retired himself 



2$8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

from talking with me, that he might be so perfect 
in this song. Was it not, master? 

Pise. Yes, indeed, for it is many years since I 
learned it; and having forgotten a part of it, I was 
forced to patch it up by the help of mine own in- 
vention, who am not excellent at poetry, as my 
part of the song may testify ; but of that I will say 
no more, lest you should think I mean by discom- 
mending it to beg your commendations of it. And 
therefore, without replications, let 's hear your catch, 
scholar, which I hope will be a good one, for you 
are both musical and have a good fancy to boot. 

Ven. Marry, and that you shall, and as freely as 
I would have my honest master tell me some more 
secrets of fish and fishing as we walk and fish 
towards London to-morrow. But, master, first let 
me tell you that that very hour which you were ab- 
sent from me, I sat down under a willow-tree by the 
water-side, and considered what you had told me 
of the owner of that pleasant meadow in which 
you then left me : that he had a plentiful estate, 
and not a heart to think so ; that he had at this 
time many law-suits depending, and that they both 
damped his mirth and took up so much of his 
time and thoughts that he himself had not leisure 
to take the sweet content that I, who pretended 
no title to them, took in his fields : for I could 
there sit quietly, and looking on the water, see 
some fishes sport themselves in the silver streams, 
others leaping at flies of several shapes and colors ; 
looking on the hills, I could behold them spotted 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 239 

with woods and groves ; looking down the mead- 
ows, could see here a boy gathering lilies and 
lady-smocks, and there a girl cropping culverkeyes 
and cowslips, all to make garlands suitable to this 
present month of May. These and many other 
field-flowers so perfumed the air that I thought 
that very meadow like that field in Sicily, of which 
Diodorus speaks, where the perfumes arising from 
the place make all dogs that hunt in it to fall off, 
and to lose their hottest scent. I say, as I thus 
sat, joying in my own happy condition, and pitying 
this poor rich man that owned this and many 
other pleasant groves and meadows about me, I 
did thankfully remember what my Saviour said, — 
that the meek possess the earth, or rather they 
enjoy what the other possess and enjoy not ; for 
anglers, and meek, quiet-spirited men are free 
from those high, those restless thoughts which cor- 
rode the sweets of life, and they, and they only, 
can say as the poet has happily expressed it, — 

" Hail ! blest estate of lowliness ! 
Happy enjoyments of such minds 
As, rich in self-contentedness, 
Can, like the reeds in roughest winds, 

By yielding make that blow but small, 
At which proud oaks and cedars fall." 

There came also into my mind at that time cer- 
tain verses in praise of a mean estate and an hum- 
ble mind. They were written by Phineas Fletcher, 
an excellent divine and an excellent angler, and 
the author of excellent Piscatory Eclogues, in 



24O THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

which you shall see the picture of this good man's 
mind ; and I wish mine to be like it. 

" No empty hopes, no courtly fears him fright, 
No begging wants his middle-fortune bite, 
But sweet content exiles both misery and spite, 
His certain life, that never can deceive him, 

Is full of thousand sweets and rich content ; 
The smooth-leaved beeches in the field receive him 

With coolest shade, till noontide's heat be spent: 
His life is neither tossed in boisterous seas, 
Or the vexatious world, or lost in slothful ease : 
Pleased and full blessed he lives, when he his God can 
please. 

" His bed, more safe than soft, yields quiet sleeps, 
While by his side his faithful spouse hath place ; 
His little son into his bosom creeps, 

The lively picture of his father's face. 
His humble house or poor state ne'er torment him : 
Less he could like, if less his God had lent him ; 
And when he dies, green turfs do for a tomb content 
him." 

Gentlemen, these were a part of the thoughts 
that then possessed me. And I there made a 
conversion of a piece of an old catch, and added 
more to it, fitting them to be sung by us anglers. 
Come, master, you can sing well ; you must sing a 
part of it as it is in this paper. 

THE ANGLER'S SONG. 

Man's life is but vain ; 
For 't is subject to pain 
And sorrow, and short as a bubble; 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2\\ 

'T is a hodge-podge of business 
And money and care, 
And care and money and trouble. 

But we '11 take no care 

When the weather proves fair ; 
Nor will we vex now though it rain ; 

We '11 banish all sorrow, 

And sing till to-morrow, 
And angle and angle again. 

Peter. I marry, sir, this is music indeed ! This 
has cheered my heart, and made me to remember 
six verses in praise of music, which I will speak 
to you instantly. 

" Music ! miraculous rhetoric 1 that speak'st sense 
Without a tongue, excelling eloquence; 
With what ease might thy errors be excused, 
Wert thou as truly loved as tUou 'rt abused ! 
But though dull souls neglect, and some reprove thee, 
I cannot hate thee, 'cause the Angels love thee ! " 

Ven. And the repetition of these last verses of 
music have called to my memory what Mr. Ed- 
mund Waller, a lover of the angle, says of love and 
music. 

" Whilst I listen to thy voice, 

Chloris, I feel my heart decay ; 
That powerful voice 

Calls my fleeting soul away : 
Oh, suppress that magic sound 
Which destroys without a wound. 

" Peace, Chloris, peace ; or singing die, 
That together you and I 
16 



242 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

To heaven may go : 

For all we know 
Of what the blessed do above 
Is that they sing and that they love." 

Pise. Well remembered, brother Peter; these 
verses came seasonably, and we thank you 
heartily. Come, we will all join together, my 
host and all, and sing my scholar's catch over 
again, and then each man drink the t' other cup 
and to bed, and thank God we have a dry house 
over our heads. 

Pise. Well, now, good night to everybody. 

Peter. And so say I. 

Ven. And so say I. 

Cor. Good night to you all ; and I thank you. 

Pise. Good morrow, brother Peter! and the 
like to you, honest Coridon. Come, my hostess 
says there is seven shillings to pay : let 's each man 
drink a pot for his morning's draught, and lay down 
his two shillings ; that so my hostess may not have 
occasion to repent herself of being so diligent, and 
using us so kindly. 

Peter. The motion is liked by everybody, and 
so, hostess, here 's your money : we anglers are all 
beholden to you ; it will not be long ere I '11 see you 
again. And now, brother Piscator, I wish you and 
my brother, your scholar, a fair day and good for- 
tune. Come, Coridon, this is our way. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

OF ROACH AND DACE, AND HOW TO FISH FOR 
THEM ; AND OF CADIS. 

TZENATOR. Good master, as we go now 

towards London, be still so courteous as to 

give me more instructions, for I have several boxes 

in my memory, in which I will keep them all very 

safe ; there shall not one of them be lost 

Pise. Well, scholar, that I will ; and I will hide 
nothing from you that I can remember, and can 
think may help you forward towards a perfection 
in this art. And because we have so much time, 
and I have said so little of roach and dace, I will 
give you some directions concerning them. 

Some say the roach is so called from ratilus, 
which, they say, signifies red fins. He is a fish of 
no great reputation for his dainty taste ; and his 
spawn is accounted much better than any other 
part of him. And you may take notice that as the 
carp is accounted the water-fox for his cunning, so 
the roach is accounted the water-sheep for his sim- 
plicity or foolishness. It is noted that the roach 
and dace recover strength, and grow in season in 



244 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

a fortnight after spawning ; the barbel and chub in 
a month ; the trout in four months ; and the salmon 
in the like time, if he gets into the sea, and after 
into fresh water. 

Roaches be accounted much better in the river 
than in a pond, though ponds usually breed the 
biggest. But there is a kind of bastard small roach 
that breeds in ponds, with a very forked tail, and of 
a very small size, which some say is bred by the 
bream and right roach, and some ponds are stored 
with these beyond belief; and knowing men that 
know their difference call them ruds : they differ 
from the true roach as much as a herring from a 
pilchard. And these bastard breed of roach are 
now scattered in many rivers, but I think not in the 
Thames, which I believe affords the largest and fat- 
test in this nation, especially below London Bridge. 
The roach is a leather-mouthed fish, and has a kind 
of saw-like teeth in his throat. And lastly, let 
me tell you, the roach makes the angler excellent 
sport, especially the great roaches about London, 
where I think there be the best roach-anglers ; 
and I think the best trout-anglers be in Derbyshire, 
for the waters there are clear to an extremity. 

Next, let me tell you, you shall fish for this roach 
in winter with paste or gentles, in April with worms 
or cadis : in the very hot months with little white 
snails, or with flies under water, for he seldom 
takes them at the top, though the dace will. In 
many of the hot months roaches may also be 
caught thus : take a May-fly, or ant-fly, sink him 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 245 

with a little lead to the bottom near to the piles or 
posts of a bridge, or near to any posts of a weir, — 
I mean any deep place where roaches lie quietly, 
— and then pull your fly up very leisurely, and 
usually a roach will follow your bait to the very top 
of the water and gaze on it there, and run at it 
and take it lest the fly should fly away from him. 

I have seen this done at Windsor and Henley 
Bridge, and great store of roach taken ; and some- 
times a dace or chub. And in August you may 
fish for them with a paste made only of the 
crumbs of bread, which should be of pure fine 
manchet ; l and that paste must be so tempered 
betwixt your hands till it be both soft and tough 
too : a very little water, and time and labor, and 
clean hands, will make it a most excellent paste. 
But when you fish with it, you must have a small 
hook, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, or the bait 
is lost, and the fish too, — if one may lose that 
which he never had. With this paste you may, 
as I said, take both the roach and the dace or dare ; 
for they be much of a kind, in matter of feeding, 
cunning, goodness, and usually in size. And there- 
fore take this general direction for some other 
baits which may concern you to take notice of. 
They will bite almost at any fly, but especially at 
ant-flies ; concerning which take this direction, 
for it is very good. 

Take the blackish ant-fly out of the mole-hill or 
ant-hill, in which place you shall find them in the 
1 The finest white rolls. — Nares. 



246 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

month of June ; or if that be too early in the year, 
then doubtless you may find them in July, August, 
and most of September. Gather them alive, with 
both their wings, and then put them into a glass that 
will hold a quart or a pottle ; but first put into the 
glass a handful or more of the moist earth out of 
which you gather them, and as much of the roots of 
the grass of the said hillock ; and then put in the 
flies gently, that they lose not their wings. Lay a 
clod of earth over it, and then so many as are put 
into the glass without bruising will live there a month 
or more, and be always in a readiness for you to 
fish with ; but if you would have them keep longer, 
then get any great earthen pot, or barrel of three or 
four gallons, which is better ; then wash your barrel 
with water and honey, and having put into it a quan- 
tity of earth and grass-roots, then put in your flies, 
and cover it, and they will live a quarter of a year. 
These, in any stream and clear water, are a deadly 
bait for roach or dace, or for a chub ; and your 
rule is, to fish not less than a handful from the 
bottom. 

I shall next tell you a winter-bait for a roach, a 
dace, or chub ; and it is choicely good. About 
AU-hallontide, and so till frost comes, when you see 
men ploughing up heath-ground or sandy ground 
or greenswards, then follow the plough, and 
you shall find a white worm as big as two mag- 
gots, and it hath a red head ; you may observe in 
what ground most are, for there the crows will be 
very watchful, and follow the plough very close. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 247 

It is all soft, and full of whitish guts, — a worm that 
is in Norfolk and some other counties called a 
grub, and is bred of the spawn or eggs of a beetle, 
which she leaves in holes that she digs in the 
ground under cow or horse dung, and there rests 
all winter, and in March or April comes first to be 
a red and then a black beetle. Gather a thousand 
or two of these, and put them with a peck or 
two of their own earth into some tub or firkin, 
and cover and keep them so warm that the frost 
or cold air or winds kill them not. These you may- 
keep all winter, and kill fish with them at any time ; 
and if you put some of them into a little earth and 
honey a day before you use them, you will find 
them an excellent bait for bream, carp, or indeed 
for almost any fish. 

And after this manner you may also keep gen- 
tles all winter, which are a good bait then, and 
much the better for being lively and tough. Or 
} ou may breed and keep gentles thus : take a 
piece of beast's liver, and with a cross stick hang 
it in some corner over a pot or barrel half full of 
dry clay ; and as the gentles grow big, they will 
fall into the barrel, and scour themselves, and be 
always ready for use whensoever you incline to 
fish; and these gentles may be thus created till 
after Michaelmas. But if you desire to keep gen- 
tles to fish with all the year, then get a dead cat 
or a kite, and let it be fly-blown ; and when the 
gentles begin to be alive and to stir, then bury it 
and them in soft, moist earth, but as free from 



248 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

frost as you can, and these you may dig up at any 
time when you intend to use them : these will 
last till March, and about that time turn to be 
flies. 

But if you be nice to foul your fingers, which 
good anglers seldom are, then take this bait : get 
a handful of well-made malt, and put it into a 
dish of water, and then wash and rub it betwixt 
your hands till you make it clean, and as free 
from husks as you can ; then put that water from 
it, and put a small quantity of fresh water to it, 
and set it in something that is fit for that purpose 
over the fire, where it is not to boil apace, but 
leisurely and very softly, until it become some- 
what soft, which you may try by feeling it betwixt 
your finger and thumb ; and when it is soft, then 
put your water from it : then take a sharp knife, 
and turning the sprout-end of the corn upward, 
with the point of your knife take the back part of 
the husk off from it, and yet leaving a kind of in- 
ward husk on the corn, or else it is marred ; and 
then cut off that sprouted end, I mean a little of 
it, that the white may appear, and so pull off the 
husk on the cloven side, as I directed you ; and 
then cutting off a very little of the other end, that 
so your hook may enter ; and if your hook be 
small and good, you will find this to be a very 
choice bait, either for winter or summer, you 
sometimes casting a little of it into the place where 
your float swims. 

And to take the roach and dace, a good bait is 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



249 



the young brood of wasps or bees, if you dip their 
heads in blood ; especially good for bream, if they 
be baked or hardened in their husks in an oven, 
after the bread is taken out of it ; or hardened on 
a fire-shovel : and so also is the thick blood of 
sheep, being half dried on a trencher, that so you 
may cut into such pieces as may best fit the size 
of your hook ; and a little salt keeps it from grow- 
ing black, and makes it not the worse but better : 
this is taken to be a choice bait if rightly ordered. 
There be several oils of a strong smell that I 
have been told of, and to be excellent to tempt 
fish to bite, of which I could say much. But I 
remember I once carried a small bottle from Sir 
George Hastings to Sir Henry Wotton (they were 
both chemical men) as a great present : it was 
sent and received and used with great confidence j 
and yet, upon inquiry, I found it did not answer 
the expectation of Sir Henry, — which, with the 
help of this and other circumstances, makes me 
have but little belief in such things as many men 
talk of. Not but that I think fishes both smell 
and hear, as I have expressed in my former dis- 
course ; but there is a mysterious knack, which, 
though it be much easier than the philosopher's 
stone, yet is not attainable by common capacities, 
or else lies locked up in the brain or breast of 
some chemical man, that, like the Rosicrucians, will 
not yet reveal it. But let me nevertheless tell you 
that camphor put with moss into your worm-bag 
with your worms, makes them, if many anglers be 



25O THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

not very much mistaken, a tempting bait, and the 
angler more fortunate. But I stepped by chance 
into this discourse of oils, and fishes smelling ; and 
though there might be more said, both of it and of 
baits for roach and dace and other float-fish, yet 
I will forbear it at this time, and tell you in the 
next place how you are to prepare your tackling : 
concerning which I will, for sport-sake, give you an 
old rhyme out of an old fish-book, which will 
prove a part and but a part of what you are to 
provide. 

" My rod and my line, my float and my lead, 

My hook and my plummet, my whetstone and knife, 

My basket, my baits both living and dead, 
My net and my meat, for that is the chief: 

Then I must have thread, and hairs green and small, 
With mine angling-purse, and so you have all." 

But you must have all these tackling and twice 
so many more, with which, if you mean to be a 
fisher, you must store yourself; and to that pur- 
pose I will go with you either to Mr. Margrave, 
who dwells amongst the booksellers in St. Paul's 
Churchyard, or to Mr. John Stubbs, near to the 
Swan in Golding Lane ; they be both honest 
men, and will fit an angler with what tackling he 
lacks. 

Ven. Then, good master, let it be at , for 

he is nearest to my dwelling ; and I pray let 's meet 
there the 9th of May next, about two of the clock ; 
and I '11 want nothing that a fisher should be fur- 
nished with. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2^1 

Pise. Well, and I '11 not fail you, God willing, 
at the time and place appointed. 

Ven. I thank you, good master, and I will not 
fail you. And, good master, tell me what baits 
more you remember, for it will not now be long 
ere we shall be at Tottenham High-Cross ; and 
when we come thither I will make you some re- 
quital of your pains, by repeating as choice a copy 
of verses as any we have heard since we met to- 
gether; and that is a proud word, for we have 
heard very good ones. 

Pise. Well, scholar, and I shall be then right 
glad to hear them. And I will, as we walk, tell 
you whatsoever comes in my mind, that I think 
may be worth your hearing. You may make 
another choice bait thus : take a handful or two 
of the best and biggest wheat you can get ; boil it 
in a little milk, like as frumity is boiled ; boil it so 
till it be soft, and then fry it very leisurely with 
honey and a little beaten saffron dissolved in milk ; 
and you will find this a choice bait, and good I 
think for any fish, especially for roach, dace, chub, 
or grayling : I know not but that it may be as 
good for a river-carp, and especially if the ground 
be a little baited with it. 

And you may also note that the spawn of most 
fish is a very tempting bait, being a little hardened 
on a warm tile, and cut into fit pieces. Nay, 
mulberries and those blackberries which grow 
upon briers be good baits for chubs or carps : with 
these many have been taken in ponds, and in 



252 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

some rivers where such trees have grown near the 
water, and the fruit customarily dropped into it. 
And there be a hundred other baits, more than 
can be well named ; which, by constant baiting 
the water, will become a tempting bait for any 
fish in it. 

You are also to know that there be divers kinds 
of cadis or case-worms, that are to be found in 
this nation in several distinct counties, and in 
several little brooks that relate to bigger rivers : as 
namely one cadis, called a piper, whose husk or 
case is a piece of reed about an inch long or 
longer, and as big about as the compass of a two- 
pence. These worms being kept three or four 
days in a woollen bag with sand at the bottom of 
it, and the bag wet once a day, will in three or 
four days turn to be yellow ; and these be a choice 
bait for the chub or chavender, or indeed for any 
great fish, for it is a large bait. 

There is also a lesser cadis-worm, called a cock- 
spur, being in fashion like the spur of a cock, 
sharp at one end ; and the case or house in which 
this dwells is made of small husks, and gravel, and 
slime, — most curiously made of these, even so as 
to be wondered at ; but not to be made by man, no 
more than a kingfisher's nest can, which is made 
of little fishes' bones, and have such a geometrical 
interweaving and connection as the like is not to 
be done by the art of man. This kind of cadis is 
a choice bait for any float-fish ; it is much less than 
the piper- cadis, and to be so ordered ; and these 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 253 

may be so preserved ten, fifteen, or twenty days, 
or it may be longer. 

There is also another cadis, called by some a 
straw-worm and by some a ruff-coat, whose house 
or case is made of little pieces of bents and rushes 
and straws and water-weeds, and I know not what ; 
which are so knit together with condensed slime 
that they stick about her husk or case not unlike 
the bristles of a hedgehog. These three cadises 
are commonly taken in the beginning of summer, 
and are good indeed to take any kind of fish with 
float or otherwise. I might tell you of many more, 
which as these do early, so those have their time 
also of turning to be flies later in summer ; but I 
might lose myself and tire you by such a dis- 
course : I shall therefore but remember you that 
to know these and their several kinds, and to 
what flies every particular cadis turns, and then 
how to use them, first as they be cadis, and after 
as they be flies, is an art, and an art that every 
one that professes to be an angler has not leisure 
to search over ; and if he had, is not capable of 
learning. 

I '11 tell you, scholar, several countries have 
several kinds of cadises, that indeed differ as much 
as dogs do : that is to say, as much as a very cur 
and a greyhound do. These be usually bred in 
the very little rills or ditches that run into bigger 
rivers, and, I think, a more proper bait for those 
very rivers than any other. I know not, or of what, 
this cadis receives life, or what colored fly it turns 



254 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

to ; but, doubtless, they are the death of many 
trouts : and this is one killing way. 

Take one, or more if need be, of these large 
yellow cadis ; pull off his head, and with it pull 
out his black gut ; put the body, as little bruised 
as is possible, on a very little hook, armed on with 
a red hair, which will show like the cadis-head ; 
and a very little thin lead, so put upon the shank 
of the hook that it may sink presently. Throw 
this bait, thus ordered, which will look very yellow, 
into any great still hole where a trout is, and he 
will presently venture his life for it, 't is not to be 
doubted, if you be not espied ; and that the bait 
first touch the water, before the line ; and this will 
do best in the deepest, stillest water. 

Next let me tell you I have been much pleased 
to walk quietly by a brook with a little stick in my 
hand, with which I might easily take these and 
consider the curiosity of their composure ; and if 
you shall ever like to do so, then note that your 
stick must be a little hazel or willow, cleft, or have 
a nick at one end of it, by which means you may 
with ease take any of them in that nick out of the 
water, before you have any occasion to use them. 
These, my honest scholar, are some observations 
told to you as they now come into my memory, 
of which you may make some use ; but for the 
practical part, it is that that makes an angler : it is 
diligence and observation and practice, and an 
ambition to be the best in the art, that must do it. 
I will tell you, scholar, I once heard one say, " I 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2$$ 

envy not him that eats better meat than I do, nor 
him that is richer, or that wears better clothes than 
I do : I envy nobody but him, and him only, that 
catches more fish than I do.' 1 And such a man 
is like to prove an angler ; and this noble emula- 
tion I wish to you and all young anglers. 



t\)t jfiftf) 2Dap* 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

OF THE MINNOW, OR PENK, OF THE LOACH, AND 
OF THE BULL-HEAD, OR MILLER ; S-THUMB. 

piSCATOR. There be also three or four other 
little fish that I had almost forgot, that all 
are without scales, and may, for excellence of 
meat, be compared to any fish of greatest value 
and largest size. They be usually full of eggs or 
spawn all the months of summer ; for they breed 
often, as ? t is observed mice and many of the 
smaller four-footed creatures of the earth do ; and 
as those, so these come quickly to their full 
growth and perfection. And it is needful that 
they breed both often and numerously ; for they 
be, besides other accidents of ruin, both a prey 
and baits for other fish. And first I shall tell you 
of the minnow, or penk. 

The minnow hath, when he is in perfect season 
and not sick, — which is only presently after spawn- 
ing, — a kind of dappled or waved color, like to a 
panther, on his sides, inclining to a greenish and 
sky-color, his belly being milk-white, and his back 
almost black or blackish. He is a sharp biter at 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 257 

a small worm, and in hot weather makes excel- 
lent sport for young anglers, or boys, or women 
that love that recreation. And in the spring they 
make of them excellent minnow-tansies ; for, be- 
ing washed well in salt, and their heads and tails 
cut off, and their guts taken out, and not washed 
after, they prove excellent for that use, — that 
is, being fried with yolks of eggs, the flowers of 
cowslips, and of primroses, and a little tansy ; 
thus used, they make a dainty dish of meat. 

The loach is, as I told you, a most dainty fish : 
he breeds and feeds in little and clear, swift brooks 
or rills, and lives there upon the gravel and in 
the sharpest streams ; he grows not to be above a 
finger long, and no thicker than is suitable to that 
length. This loach is not unlike the shape of the 
eel ; he has a beard or wattels like a barbel. He 
has two fins at his sides, four at his belly, and one 
at his tail ; he is dappled with many black or 
brown spots ; his mouth is barbel-like under his 
nose. This fish is usually full of eggs or spawn, 
and is by Gesner, and other learned physicians, 
commended for great nourishment, and to be 
very grateful both to the palate and stomach of 
sick persons. He is to be fished for with a very 
small worm at the bottom ; for he very seldom or 
never rises above the gravel, on which, I told you, 
he usually gets his living. 

The miller's-thumb, or bull-head, is a fish of no 
pleasing shape. He is by Gesner compared to 
the sea-toadfish, for his similitude and shape. It 
17 



258 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

has a head, big and flat, much greater than suit- 
able to his body ; a mouth very wide and usually 
gaping. He is without teeth, but his lips are 
very rough, much like to a file. He hath two 
fins near to his gills, which be roundish or crested ; 
two fins also under the belly, two on the back, 
one below the vent ; and the fin of his tail is 
round. Nature hath painted the body of this 
fish with whitish, blackish, brownish spots. They 
be usually full of eggs or spawn all the summer, I 
mean the females ; and those eggs swell their 
vents almost into the form of a dug. They be- 
gin to spawn about April, and, as I told you, 
spawn several months in the summer. And in 
the winter the minnow and loach and bull-head 
dwell in the mud, as the eel doth, or we know 
not where ; no more than we know where the 
cuckoo and swallow and other half-year birds, 
which first appear to us in April, spend their six 
cold, winter, melancholy months. This bull-head 
does usually dwell and hide himself in holes or 
amongst stones in clear water, and in very hot 
days will lie a long time very still, and sun him- 
self, and will be easy to be seen upon any flat 
stone or any gravel, at which time he will suffer 
an angler to put a hook baited with a small worm 
very near unto his very mouth ; and he never re- 
fuses to bite, nor indeed to be caught with the 
worst of anglers. Matthiolus commends him much 
more for his taste and nourishment than for his 
shape or beauty. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 259 

There is also a little fish called a stickleback, — 
a fish without scales, but hath his body fenced 
with several prickles. I know not where he 
dwells in winter, nor what he is good for in sum- 
mer, but only to make sport for boys and women- 
anglers, and to feed other fish that be fish of 
prey, — as trouts in particular, who will bite at him 
as at a penk ; and better, if your hook be rightly 
baited with him, — for he may be so baited as, his 
tail turning like the sail of a windmill, will make 
him turn more quick than any penk or minnow 
can. For note that the nimble turning of that, 
or the minnow, is the perfection of minnow fish- 
ing. To which end, if you put your hook into 
his mouth and out at his tail, and then, having 
first tied him with a white thread a little above 
his tail, and placed him after such a manner on 
your hook as he is like to turn, then sew up his 
mouth to your line, and he is like to turn quick, 
and tempt any trout ; but if he does not turn 
quick, then turn his tail a little more or less 
towards the inner part, or towards the side of the 
hook ; or put the minnow or stickleback a little 
more crooked or more straight on your hook, un- 
til it will turn both true and fast, and then doubt 
not but to tempt any great trout that lies in a 
swift stream. And the loach that I told you of, 
will do the like ; no bait is more tempting, pro- 
vided the loach be not too big. 

And now, scholar, with the help of this fine 
morning and your patient attention, I have said 



26o THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

all that my present memory will afford me, con- 
cerning most of the several fish that are usually 
fished for in fresh waters. 

Ven. But, master, you have, by your former 
civility, made me hope that you will make good 
your promise, and say something of the several 
rivers that be of most note in this nation ; and 
also of fish-ponds, and the ordering of them : and 
do it, I pray, good master, for I love any discourse 
of rivers and fish and fishing ; the time spent in 
such discourse passes away very pleasantly. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

OF SEVERAL RIVERS, AND SOME OBSERVATIONS 
OF FISH. 

piSCATOR. Well, scholar, since the ways 
and weather do both favor us, and that we 
yet see not Tottenham Cross, you shall see my will- 
ingness to satisfy your desire. And, first, for the 
rivers of this nation : there be, as you may note 
out of Dr. Heylin's Geography and others, in 
number three hundred and twenty-five ; but those 
of chiefest note he reckons and describes as 
followeth. 

The chief is Thamisis, compounded of two 
rivers, Thame and Isis ; whereof the former, rising 
somewhat beyond Thame in Buckinghamshire, 
and the latter near Cirencester in Gloucestershire, 
meet together about Dorchester in Oxfordshire ; 
the issue of which happy conjunction is the Tha- 
misis, or Thames. Hence it flieth betwixt Berks, 
Buckinghamshire, Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and 
Essex, and so weddeth himself to the Kentish 
Medway in the very jaws of the ocean. This glori- 
ous river feeleth the violence and benefit of the sea 



262 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 

more than any river in Europe, — ebbing and flow- 
ing twice a day more than sixty miles ; about 
whose banks are so many fair towns and princely 
palaces that a German poet thus truly spake : — 
" Tot campos, etc. 

" We saw so many woods and princely bowers. 
Sweet fields, brave palaces, and stately towers ; 
So many gardens, dressed with curious care. 
That Thames with royal Tiber may compare " 

2. The second river of note is Sabrina, or 
Severn. It hath its beginning in Plinilimmon 
Hill in Montgomeryshire, and his end seven miles 
from Bristol ; washing in the mean space the walls 
of Shrewsbury, Worcester, and Gloucester, and 
divers other places and palaces of note. 

3. Trent, so called from thirty kind of fishes 
that are found in it, or for that it receiveth thirty 
lesser rivers ; who, having his fountain in Stafford- 
shire, and gliding through the counties of Notting- 
ham, Lincoln, Leicester, and York, augmenteth 
the turbulent current of Humber, the most violent 
stream of all the isle. This Humber is not, to 
say truth, a distinct river, having a spring -head of 
his own, but it is rather the mouth, or cestuarium, 
of divers rivers here confluent and meeting to- 
gether ; namely, your Derwent, and especially of 
Ouse and Trent ; and (as the Danow, having re- 
ceived into its channel the rivers Dravus, Savus, 
Tibiscus, and divers others) changeth his name 
into this of Humberabus, as the old geographers 
call it. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 263 

4. Medvvay, a Kentish river, famous for har- 
boring the royal navy. 

5. Tweed, the northeast bound of England, 
on whose northern banks is seated the strong and 
impregnable town of Berwick. 

6. Tyne, famous for Newcastle, and her inex- 
haustible coal-pits. These, and the rest of prin- 
cipal note, are thus comprehended in one of Mr. 
Drayton's sonnets : — 

" Our floods' queen, Thames, for ships and swans is 
crowned ; 

And stately Severn for her shore is praised ; 
The crystal Trent for fords and fish renowned ; 

And Avon's fame to Albion's cliffs is raised. 
Carlegion-Chester vaunts her holy Dee ; 

York many wonders of her Ouse can tell ; 
The Peak her Dove, whose banks so fertile be, 

And Kent will say her Medway doth excel. 
Cotswold commends her Isis to the Thame ; 

Our northern borders boast of Tweed's fair flood; 
Our western parts extol their Willy's fame, 

And the old Lea brags of the Danish blood " 

These observations are out of learned Dr. 
Heylin, and my old deceased friend, Michael 
Drayton ; and because you say, you love such dis- 
courses as these of rivers and fish and fishing, I 
love you the better, and love the more to impart 
them to you ; nevertheless, scholar, if I should 
begin but to name the several sorts of strange fish 
that are usually taken in many of those rivers that 
run into the sea, I might beget wonder in you, or 
unbelief, or both ; and yet I will venture to tell 



264 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

you a real truth concerning one lately dissected 
by Dr. Wharton, — a man of great learning and 
experience, and of equal freedom to communicate 
it ; one that loves me and my art ; one to whom 
I have been beholden for many of the choicest 
observations that I have imparted to you. This 
good man, that dares do anything rather than tell 
an untruth, did, I say, tell me he lately dissected 
one strange fish, and he thus described it to me : 

" The fish was almost a yard broad, and twice 
that length j his mouth wide enough to receive or 
take into it the head of a man ; his stomach seven 
or eight inches broad. He is of a slow motion, 
and usually lies or lurks close in the mud, and has 
a movable string on his head about a span, or near 
unto a quarter of a yard long ; by the moving of 
which, which is his natural bait, when he lies close 
and unseen in the mud, he draws other smaller 
fish so close to him, that he can suck them into 
his mouth, and so devours and digests them." 

And, scholar, do not wonder at this ; for, besides 
the credit of the relator, you are to note many of 
these, and fishes which are of the like and more 
unusual shapes, are very often taken on the mouths 
of our sea-rivers and on the sea-shore. And this 
will be no wonder to any that have travelled 
Egypt ; where 't is known the famous river Nilus 
does not only breed fishes that yet want names, 
but by the overflowing of that river and the help 
of the sun's heat on the fat slime which that river 
leaves on the banks, when it falls back into its 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 265 

natural channel, such strange fish and beasts are 
also bred that no man can give a name to, as 
Grotius, in his u Sophom," and others, have 
observed. 

But whither am I strayed in this discourse ? I 
will end it by telling you that at the mouth of 
some of these rivers of ours herrings are so plen- 
tiful, as namely near to Yarmouth in Norfolk, and 
in the west-country pilchers so very plentiful, as 
you will wonder to read what our learned Camden 
relates of them in his " Britannia," pp. 178, 186. 

Well, scholar, I will stop here and tell you what 
by reading and conference I have observed con- 
cerning fish-ponds. 



CHAPTER XX. 

OF FISH-PONDS, AND HOW TO ORDER THEM. 

piSCATOR. Dr. Lebault, the learned French- 
man, in his large discourse of " Maison Rus- 
tique," gives this direction for making of fish-ponds. 
I shall refer you to him to read it at large ; but I 
think I shall contract it, and yet make it as useful. 

He adviseth that when you have drained the 
ground and made the earth firm where the head 
of the pond must be, you must then, in that place, 
drive in two or three rows of oak or elm piles, 
which should be scorched in the fire, or half 
burned, before they be driven into the earth ; for 
being thus used, it preserves them much longer 
from rotting. And having done so, lay fagots or 
bavins l of smaller wood betwixt them ; and then 
earth betwixt and above them ; and then, having 
first very well rammed them and the earth, use 
another pile in like manner as the first were, and 
note that the second pile is to be of or about the 
height that you intend to make your sluice or flood- 
gate, or the vent that you intend shall convey the 

1 Small fagots of light brushwood. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 267 

overflowings of your pond, in any flood that shall 
endanger the breaking of the pond-dam. 

Then he advises that you plant willows or owlers 1 
about it, or both ; and then cast in bavins in some 
places not far from the side, and in the most 
sandy places, for fish both to spawn upon, and to 
defend them and the young fry from the many fish, 
and also from vermin, that lie at watch to de- 
stroy them ; especially the spawn of the carp and 
tench, when 't is left to the mercy of ducks or 
vermin. 

He and Dubravius and all others advise that 
you make choice of such a place for your pond 
that it may be refreshed with a little rill, or with 
rain-water running or falling into it ; by which fish 
are more inclined both to breed, and are also re- 
freshed and fed the better, and do prove to be of 
a much sweeter and more pleasant taste. 

To which end it is observed that such pools as 
be large and have most gravel, and shallows where 
fish may sport themselves, do afford fish of the 
purest taste. And note that in all pools it is best for 
fish to have some retiring-place, as, namely, hollow 
banks, or shelves, or roots of trees, to keep them 
from danger ; and when they think fit, from the ex- 
treme heat of summer, as also from the extremity 
of cold in winter. And note that if many trees 
be growing about your pond, the leaves thereof 
falling into the water make it nauseous to the fish, 
and the fish to be so to the eater of it. 
1 Poplars. 



268 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Tis noted that the tench and eel love mud, 
and the carp loves gravelly ground, and in the hot 
months to feed on grass. You are to cleanse your 
pond, if you intend either profit or pleasure, once 
every three or four years, especially some ponds, 
and then let it lie dry six or twelve months, both to 
kill the water-reeds, as water-lilies, candocks, 1 reate, 2 
and bulrushes, that breed there ; and also that as 
these die for want of water, so grass may grow in 
the pond's bottom, which carps will eat greed- 
ily in all the hot months if the pond be clean. 
The letting your pond dry and sowing oats in the 
bottom is also good, for the fish feed the faster ; 
and being sometime let dry, you may observe what 
kind of fish either increases or thrives best in that 
water, — for they differ much both in their breeding 
and feeding. 

Lebault also advises that if your ponds be not 
very large and roomy, that you often feed your fish 
by throwing in to them chippings of bread, curds, 
grains, or the entrails of chickens, or of any fowl 
or beast that you kill to feed yourselves ; for these 
afford fish a great relief. He says that frogs and 
ducks do much harm, and devour both the spawn 
and the young fry of all fish, especially of the carp : 
and I have, besides experience, many testimonies 
of it. But Lebault allows water-frogs to be good 
meat, especially in some months, if they be fat ; 
but you are to note that he is a Frenchman, and we 

1 A species of dog-grass growing in rivers. 

2 The sedge or water-flag. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 269 

English will hardly believe him, though we know 
frogs are usually eaten in his country : however, 
he advises to destroy them and king-fishers out of 
your ponds. And he advises not to suffer much 
shooting at wild-fowl ; for that, he says, affrightens 
and harms and destroys the fish. 

Note that carps and tench thrive and breed best 
when no other fish is put with them into the same 
pond ; for all other fish devour their spawn, or 
at least the greatest part of it. And note that 
clods of grass thrown into any pond feed any carps 
in summer, and that garden-earth and parsley 
thrown into a pond recovers and refreshes the sick 
fish. And note that when you store your pond, 
you are to put into it two or three melters for one 
spawner, if you put them into a breeding-pond ; 
but if into a nurse-pond, or feeding-pond, in 
which they will not breed, then no care is to 
be taken whether there be most male or female 
carps. 

It is observed that the best ponds to breed carps 
are those that be stony or sandy, and are warm 
and free from wind, and that are not deep, but 
have willow-trees and grass on their sides, over 
which the water does sometimes flow ; and note 
that carps do more usually breed in marle-pits, or 
pits that have clean clay-bottoms, or in new ponds, 
or ponds that lie dry a winter-season, than in old 
ponds that be full of mud and weeds. 

Well, scholar, I have told you the substance of 
all that either observation or discourse or a dili- 



27O THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

gent survey of Dubravius and Lebault hath told 
me : not that they, in their long discourses, have 
not said more ; but the most of the rest are so 
common observations as if a man should tell a 
good arithmetician that twice two is four. I will 
therefore put an end to this discourse, and we will 
here sit down and rest us. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

DIRECTIONS FOR MAKING OF A LINE, AND FOR THE 
COLORING OF BOTH ROD AND LINE. 

piSCATOR. Well, scholar, I have held you too 
long about these cadis, and smaller fish, and 
rivers, and fish-ponds ; and my spirits are almost 
spent, and so, I doubt, is your patience : but being 
we are now almost at Tottenham, where I first met 
you, and where we are to part, I will lose no time, 
but give you a little direction how to make and order 
your lines, and to color the hair of which you make 
your lines, for that is very needful to be known of an 
angler ; and also how to paint your rod, especially 
your top, — for a right-grown top is a choice com- 
modity, and should be preserved from the water 
soaking into it, which makes it in wet weather to be 
heavy, and fish ill-favoredly, and not true ; and also 
it rots quickly for want of painting : and I think a 
good top is worth preserving, or I had not taken 
care to keep a top above twenty years. 

But first for your line. First note that you are 
to take care that your hair be round and clear, and 
free from galls or scabs or frets ; for a well-chosen, 
even, clear, round hair, of a kind of glass-color, 



272 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

will prove as strong as three uneven, scabby hairs, 
that are ill-chosen, and full of galls or unevenness. 
You shall seldom find a black hair but it is round, 
but many white are flat and uneven ; therefore, if 
you get a lock of right round, clear, glass-color hair, 
make much of it. 

And for making your line, observe this rule : 
first let your hair be clean washed ere you go 
about to twist it ; and then choose not only the 
clearest hair for it, but hairs that be of an equal 
bigness, for such do usually stretch all together, 
and break all together, which hairs of an unequal 
bigness never do, but break singly, and so deceive 
the angler that trusts to them. 

When you have twisted your links, lay them in 
water for a quarter of an hour at least, and then 
twist them over again before you tie them into a 
line : for those that do not so shall usually find 
their line to have a hair or two shrink and be 
shorter than the rest at the first fishing with it ; 
which is so much of the strength of the line lost 
for want of first watering it and then re-twisting 
it ; and this is most visible in a seven-hair line, 
one of those which hath always a black hair in 
the middle. 

And for dyeing of your hairs, do it thus. Take 
a pint of strong ale, half a pound of soot, and a 
little quantity of the juice of walnut-tree leaves, 
and an equal quantity of alum : put these together 
into a pot, pan, or pipkin, and boil them half an 
hour, and having so done, let it cool ; and being 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



273 



cold, put your hair into it, and there let it lie : it 
will turn your hair to be a kind of water or glass- 
color or greenish ; and the longer you let it lie, 
the deeper-colored it will be. You might be 
taught to make many other colors, but it is to 
little purpose, — for doubtless the water-color or 
glass-colored hair is the most choice and most 
useful for an angler ; but let it not be too green. 

But if you desire to color hair greener, then do 
it thus. Take a quart of small ale, half a pound 
of alum ; then put these into a pan or pipkin, and 
your hair into it with them ; then put it upon a 
fire, and let it boil softly for half an hour ; and 
then take out your hair, and let it dry ; and hav- 
ing so done, then take a pottle of water, and put 
into it two handfuls of marigolds, and cover it 
with a tile, or what you think fit, and set it again 
on the fire, where it is to boil again softly for half 
an hour, about which time the scum will turn 
yellow ; then put into it half a pound of copperas, 
beaten small, and with it the hair that you intend 
to color ; then let the hair be boiled softly till half 
the liquor be wasted ; and then let it cool three 
or four hours, with your hair in it, — and you are 
to observe that the more copperas you put into 
it, the greener it will be ; but doubtless the pale 
green is best But if you desire yellow hair, 
which is only good when the weeds rot, then put 
in the more marigolds, and abate most of the 
copperas, or leave it quite out, and take a little 
verdigris instead of it. This for coloring your hair. 
18 



274 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

And as for painting your rod, which must be in 
oil, you must first make a size with glue and water 
boiled together until the glue be dissolved, and 
the size of a lye-color ; then strike your size upon 
the wood with a bristle, or a brush, or pencil, 
whilst it is hot. That being quite dry, take white- 
lead and a little red-lead and a little coal-black, 
so much as all together will make an ash-color ; 
grind these all together with linseed-oil, let it be 
thick, and lay it thin upon the wood with a brush 
or pencil ; this do for the ground of any color to 
lie upon wood. 

For a green : Take pink and verdigris, and 
grind them together in linseed-oil, as thin as you 
can well grind it ; then lay it smoothly on with 
your brush, and drive it thin : once doing, for the 
most part, will serve, if you lay it well ; and if 
twice, be sure your first color be thoroughly dry 
before you lay on a second. 

Well, scholar, having now taught you to paint 
your rod, and we having still a mile to Tottenham 
High-Cross, I will, as we walk towards it, in the 
cool shade of this sweet honeysuckle hedge, men- 
tion to you some of the thoughts and joys that 
have possessed my soul since we two met together. 
And these thoughts shall be told you, that you 
also may join with me in thankfulness to " the 
Giver of every good and perfect gift " for our 
happiness. And that our present happiness may 
appear to be the greater, and we the more thank- 
ful for it, I will beg you to consider with me 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2?$ 

how many do, even at this very time, lie under 
the torment of the stone, the gout, and tooth- 
ache ; and this we are free from. And every 
misery that I miss is a new mercy, and therefore 
let us be thankful. There have been, since we 
met, others that have met disasters of broken 
limbs ; some have been blasted, others thunder- 
strucken ; and we have been freed from these, 
and all those many other miseries that threaten 
human nature ; let us therefore rejoice and be 
thankful. Nay, which is a far greater mercy, we 
are free from the unsupportable burden of an ac- 
cusing, tormenting conscience, — a misery that 
none can bear, and therefore let us praise Him 
for his preventing grace, and say, Every misery 
that I miss is a new mercy. Nay, let me tell you, 
there be many that have forty times our estates, 
that would give the greatest part of it to be health- 
ful and cheerful like us, who, with the expense of 
a little money, have eat, and drank, and laughed, 
and angled, and sung, and slept securely, and 
rose next day, and cast away care, and sung, and 
laughed, and angled again ; which are blessings 
rich men cannot purchase with all their money. 
Let me tell you, scholar, I have a rich neighbor, 
that is always so busy that he has no leisure to 
laugh ; the whole business of his life is to get 
money, and more money, that he may still get 
more and more money ; he is still drudging on, 
and says, that Solomon says, " The diligent hand 
maketh rich ; " and it is true indeed : but he con- 



276 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

siders not that 't is not in the power of riches to 
make a man happy ; for it was wisely said, by a 
man of great observation, " That there be as many 
miseries beyond riches as on this side them." 
And yet God deliver us from pinching poverty, 
and grant that, having a competency, we may be 
content and thankful. Let not us repine, or so 
much as think the gifts of God unequally dealt, if 
we see another abound with riches, when, as God 
knows, the cares that are the keys that keep those 
riches hang often so heavily at the rich man's 
girdle that they clog him with weary days and 
restless nights even when others sleep quietly. 
We see but the outside of the rich man's happi- 
ness ; few consider him to be like the silkworm, 
that, when she seems to play, is at the very same 
time spinning her own bowels, and consuming 
herself. And this many rich men do ; loading 
themselves with corroding cares, to keep what they 
have, probably, unconscionably got. Let us, there- 
fore, be thankful for health and a competence, 
and, above all, for a quiet conscience. 

Let me tell you, scholar, that Diogenes walked 
on a day, with his friend, to see a country-fair, 
where he saw ribbons and looking-glasses and 
nut-crackers and fiddles and hobby-horses, and 
many other gimcracks ; and having observed them, 
and all the other finnimbruns that make a com- 
plete country-fair, he said to his friend, " Lord ! 
How many things are there in this world of which 
Diogenes hath no need ! " And truly it is so, or 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2 J J 

might be so, with very many who vex and toil 
themselves to get what they have no need of. 
Can any man charge God, that he hath not given 
him enough to make his life happy? No, doubt- 
less ; for nature Is content with a little. And yet 
you shall hardly meet with a man that complains 
not of some want ; though he indeed wants 
nothing but his will, it may be, nothing but his 
will of his poor neighbor, for not worshipping or 
not flattering him ; and thus, when we might be 
happy and quiet, we create trouble to ourselves. 
I have heard of a man that was angry with himself 
because he was no taller ; and of a woman that 
broke her looking-glass because it would not show 
her face to be as young and handsome as her next 
neighbor's was. And I knew another, to whom 
God had given health and plenty, but a wife that 
nature had made peevish, and her husband's 
riches had made purse-proud, and must, because 
she was rich, and for no other virtue, sit in the 
highest pew in the church, which being denied 
her, she engaged her husband into a contention 
for it, and at last into a lawsuit with a dogged 
neighbor, who was as rich as he, and had a wife 
as peevish and purse-proud as the other : and 
this lawsuit begot higher oppositions, and action- 
able words, and more vexations and lawsuits ; for 
you must remember that both were rich, and must 
therefore have their wills. Well, this wilful, purse- 
proud lawsuit lasted during the life of the first 
husband ; after which his wife vexed and chid, and 



278 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

chid and vexed, till she also chid and vexed her- 
self into her grave : and so the wealth of these 
poor rich people was cursed into a punishment, 
because they wanted meek and thankful hearts ; 
for those only can make us happy. I knew a 
man that had health and riches, and several 
houses, all beautiful and ready furnished, and 
would often trouble himself and family to be re- 
moving from one house to another ; and being 
asked by a friend why he removed so often from 
one house to another, replied, " It was to find 
content in some one of them." But his friend, 
knowing his temper, told him, if he would find 
content in any of his houses, he must leave him- 
self behind him ; for content will never dwell 
but in a meek and quiet soul. And this may 
appear, if we read and consider what our Saviour 
says in Saint Matthew's Gospel ; for he there says, 
" Blessed be the merciful, for they shall obtain 
mercy. Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall 
see God. Blessed be the poor in spirit, for theirs 
is the kingdom of heaven." And, "Blessed 
be the meek, for they shall possess the earth." 
Not that the meek shall not also obtain mercy, 
and see God, and be comforted, and at last come 
to the kingdom of heaven ; but in the mean time 
he, and he only, possesses the earth as he goes 
toward that kingdom of heaven, by being humble 
and cheerful, and content with what his good 
God has allotted him. He has no turbulent, re- 
pining, vexatious thoughts, that he deserves bet- 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2J$ 

ter ; nor is vexed when he sees others possessed 
of more honor or more riches than his wise God 
has allotted for his share ; but he possesses what 
he has with a meek and contented quietness, — 
such a quietness as makes his very dreams pleasing 
both to God and himself. 

My honest scholar, all this is told to incline you 
to thankfulness and to incline you the more, let 
me tell you that though the prophet David was 
guilty of murder and adultery, and many other of 
the most deadly sins, yet he was said to be a man 
after God's own heart, because he abounded more 
with thankfulness then any other that is mentioned 
in Holy Scripture, as may appear in his book of 
Psalms, where there is such a commixture of his 
confessing of his sins and unworthiness, and such 
thankfulness for God's pardon and mercies, as did 
make him to be accounted, even by God himself, 
to be a man after his own heart ; and let us in 
that labor to be as like him as we can. Let not 
the blessings we receive daily from God make us 
not to value or not praise him because they be 
common ; let not us forget to praise him for the 
innocent mirth and pleasure we have met with 
since we met together. What would a blind man 
give to see the pleasant rivers and meadows and 
flowers and fountains that we have met with since 
we met together? I have been told that if a man 
that was born blind could obtain to have his sight 
for but only one hour during his whole life, and 
should at the first opening of his eyes fix his sight 



280 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

upon the sun when it was in his full glory, either 
at the rising or setting of it, he would be so trans- 
ported and amazed, and so admire the glory of it, 
that he would not willingly turn his eyes from that 
first ravishing object to behold all the other va- 
rious beauties this world could present to him. 
And this and many other like blessings we enjoy 
daily. And for most of them, because they be so 
common, most men forget to pay their praises ; 
but let not us, because it is a sacrifice so pleasing 
to Him that made that sun and us, and still pro- 
tects us, and gives us flowers and showers, and 
stomachs and meat, and content, and leisure to go 
a-fishing. 

Well, scholar, I have almost tired myself, and I 
fear more than almost tired you. But I now see 
Tottenham High-Cross, and our short walk thither 
shall put a period to my too long discourse, in 
which my meaning was, and is, to plant that in 
your mind with which I labor to possess my own 
soul, — that is, a meek and thankful heart. And 
to that end I have showed you that riches without 
them do not make any man happy. But let me 
tell you that riches with them remove many fears 
and cares ; and therefore my advice is that you 
endeavor to be honestly rich or contentedly poor, 
but be sure that your riches be justly got, or 
you spoil all. For it is well said by Caussin, " He 
that loses his conscience has nothing left that is 
worth keeping." Therefore be sure you look to 
that. And in the next place look to your health ; 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 28 1 

and if you have it, praise God, and value it next 
to a good conscience ■ for health is the second 
blessing that we mortals are capable of, a blessing 
that money cannot buy, and therefore value it and 
be thankful for it. As for money, which may be 
said to be the third blessing, neglect it not ; but 
note that there is no necessity of being rich : for I 
told you there be as many miseries beyond riches 
as on this side them ; and if you have a compe- 
tence, enjoy it with a meek, cheerful, thankful 
heart. I will tell you, scholar, I have heard a 
grave Divine say that God has two dwellings, — 
one in heaven and the other in a meek and thank- 
ful heart, which Almighty God grant to me and 
to my honest scholar ! And so you are welcome 
to Tottenham High- Cross. 

Ven. Well, master, I thank you for all your 
good directions, but for none more than this last 
of thankfulness, which I hope I shall never forget. 
And pray, now, let 's rest ourselves in this sweet, 
shady arbor, which Nature herself has woven with 
her own fine fingers ; 't is such a contexture of 
woodbine, sweetbrier, jessamine, and myrtle, and 
so interwoven, as will secure us both from the 
sun's violent heat and from the approaching 
shower. And being sat down, I will requite a part 
of your courtesies with a bottle of sack, milk, 
oranges, and sugar, which, all put together, make 
a drink like nectar, — indeed, too good for any- 
body but us anglers. And so, master, here is a 
full glass to you of that liquor ; and when you have 



282 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

pledged me, I will repeat the verses which I prom- 
ised you : it is a copy printed amongst some of 
Sir Henry Wotton's, and doubtless made either by 
him or by a lover of angling. Come, master, 
now drink a glass to me, and then I will pledge 
you, and fall to my repetition ; it is a description 
of such country recreations as I have enjoyed 
since I had the happiness to fall into your 
company. 

" Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares, 
Anxious sighs, untimely tears, 

Fly, fly to courts, 

Fly to fond worldlings' sports, 
Where strained sardonic smiles are glozing still, 
And grief is forced to laugh against her will ; 

Where mirth 's but mummery, 

And sorrows only real be. 

" Fly from our country pastimes, fly, 
Sad troops of human misery. 

Come, serene looks, 

Clear as the crystal brooks, 
Or the pure azured heaven, that smiles to see 
The rich attendance of our poverty : 

Peace and a secure mind, 

Which all men seek, we only find. 

" Abused mortals, did you know 
Where joy, heart's-ease, and comforts grow, 

You 'd scorn proud towers, 

And seek them in these bowers ; 
Where winds sometimes our woods perhaps may shake, 
But blustering care could never tempest make; 

Nor murmurs ere come nigh us, 

Saving of fountains that glide by us. 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 28, 

" Here 's no fantastic masque, nor dance, 
But of our kids that frisk and prance j 

Nor wars are seen, 

Unless upon the green 
Two harmless lambs are butting one the other, 
Which done, both bleating run each to his mother : 

And wounds are never found, 

Save what the ploughshare gives the ground. 

" Here are no entrapping baits 
To hasten too, too hasty fates, 

Unless it be 

The fond credulity 
Of silly fish, which, worldling like, still look 
Upon the bait, but never on the hook .- 

Nor envy, 'less among 

The birds, for prize of their sweet song. 

" Go, let the diving negro seek 
For gems hid in some forlorn creek : 

We all pearls scorn, 

Save what the dewy morn 
Congeals upon each little spire of grass, 
Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass . 

And gold ne'er here appears, 

Save what the yellow Ceres bears. 



" Blest silent groves ! Oh, may you be 
Forever mirth's best nursery ! 
May pure contents 
Forever pitch their tents 
Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these 

mountains, 
And peace still slumber by these purling fountains. 
Which we may every year 
Meet when we come a-fishing here " 



284 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Pise. Trust me, scholar, I thank you heartily 
for these verses ; they be choicely good, and 
doubtless made by a lover of angling. Come, 
now, drink a glass to me, and I will requite you 
with another very good copy ; it is a Farewell to 
the Vanities of the World, and some say, written 
by Sir Harry Wotton, who I told you was an ex- 
cellent angler. But let them be writ by whom 
they will, he that writ them had a brave soul, and 
must needs be possessed with happy thoughts at 
the time of their composure. 

" Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles! 
Farewell, ye honored rags, ye glorious bubbles ! 
Fame 's but a hollow echo; gold, pure clay ; 
Honor, the darling but of one short day; 
Beauty, th' eye's idol, but a damasked skin ; 
State, but a golden prison to live in 
And torture free-born minds : embroidered trains 
Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins ; 
And blood allied to greatness, is alone 
Inherited, not purchased, nor our own. 

Fame, Honor, Beauty, State, Train, Blood, and 
Birth 

Are but the fading blossoms of the earth. 

" I would be great, but that the sun doth still 
Level his rays against the rising hill ; 
I would be high, but see the proudest oak 
Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke; 
I would be rich, but see men too unkind 
Dig in the bowels of the richest mine ; 
I would be wise, but that I often see 
The fox suspected, whilst the ass goes free ; 
I would be fair, but see the fair and proud 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 285 

Like the bright sun oft setting in a cloud; 

I would be poor, but know the humble grass 

Still trampled on by each unworthy ass : 

Rich hated ; wise suspected ; scorned if poor ; 

Great feared ; fair tempted ; high still envied more, — 
I have wished all ; but now I wish for neither, — 
Great, High, Rich, Wise, nor Fair ; Poor I '11 be 
rather. 

Would the World now adopt me for her heir, 
Would Beauty's queen entitle me the fair, 
Fame speak me fortune's minion ; could I vie 
Angels x with India ; with a speaking eye 
Command bare heads, bowed knees, strike justice dumb, 
As well as blind and lame ; or give a tongue 
To stones by epitaphs ; be called great master 
In the loose rhymes of every poetaster : 
Could I be more than any man that lives, 
Great, fair, rich, wise, all in superlatives ; 
Yet I more freely would these gifts resign 
Than ever fortune would have made them mine, 
And hold one minute of this holy leisure 
Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure. 

1 Welcome, pure thoughts ! Welcome, ye silent groves ! 
These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves. 
Now the winged people of the sky shall sing 
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring: 
A prayer-book, now, shall be my looking-glass, 
In which I will adore sweet virtue's face. 
Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace-cares, 
No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-faced fears • 
Then here I '11 sit, and sigh my hot love's folly, 
And learn t' affect an holy melancholy ; 

And, if Contentment be a stranger, then 
I '11 ne'er look for it but in heaven again." 

1 " Angel," a coin of the value of ten shillings. 



286 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 

Ven. Well, master, these verses be worthy to 
keep a room in every man's memory. I thank 
you for them ; and I thank you for your many 
instructions, which, God willing, I will not forget. 
And as Saint Austin, in his Confessions, Book IV. 
Chap. 3. commemorates the kindness of his friend 
Verecundus, for lending him and his companion a 
country-house, because there they rested and en- 
joyed themselves free from the troubles of the 
world ; so, having had the like advantage, both by 
your conversation and the art you have taught me, 
I ought ever to do the like : for indeed your com- 
pany and discourse have been so useful and pleas- 
ant that I may truly say I have only lived since I 
enjoyed them and turned angler, and not before. 
Nevertheless, here I must part with you, here in 
this now sad place, where I was so happy as first 
to meet you. But I shall long for the ninth 
of May, for then I hope again to enjoy your be- 
loved company at the appointed time and place. 
And now I wish for some somniferous potion, 
that might force me to sleep away the intermitted 
time, which will pass away with me as tediously as 
it does with men in sorrow ; nevertheless I will 
make it as short as I can, by my hopes and 
wishes. And. my good master, I will not forget 
the doctrine which you told me Socrates taught 
his scholars, that they should not think to be hon- 
ored so much for being philosophers as to honor 
philosophy by their virtuous lives. You advised 
me to the like concerning angling, and I will en- 



THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 28 J 

deavor to do so, and to live like those many worthy 
men of which you made mention in the former 
part of your discourse. This is my firm resolu- 
tion. And as a pious man advised his friend that 
to beget mortification he should frequent churches 
and view monuments and charnel-houses, and then 
and there consider how many dead bones Time 
had piled up at the gates of Death ; so when I 
would beget content, and increase confidence in 
the power and wisdom and providence of Al- 
mighty God, I will walk the meadows by some 
gliding stream, and there contemplate the lilies 
that take no care, and those very many other 
various little living creatures that are not only 
created, but fed, man knows not how, by the 
goodness of the God of Nature, and therefore 
trust in him. This is my purpose ; and so " Let 
everything that hath breath praise the Lord : " 
and let the blessing of Saint Peter's Master be with 
mine. 

Pise. And upon all that are lovers of virtue, 
and dare trust in his providence, and be quiet, 
and go a-Angling. 

Study to be quiet. — 1 Thes. iv. 11. 



THE END. 



